


With Chaos Comes Change

by OkieDokieLoki



Series: The Warrior and the Scholar [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Awesome Frigga (Marvel), Character Death, F/M, Intersex Loki, Jötunn Loki, M/M, Mpreg, Parent Loki, Parent Thor, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 04:23:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 61
Words: 162,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10071323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OkieDokieLoki/pseuds/OkieDokieLoki
Summary: The conclusion of the Warrior and the Scholar series finds Loki and Thor at a crossroads. The decisions that they make no longer simply effect themselves and their shifting relationship, but impacts all of the Nine. Can they achieve peace or will the Worlds fall into Chaos?





	1. Chapter 1

**Five Years Later**

  
**Utgard, Jotunnheim**

  
The sunlight landed on Loki’s face, the warmth teasing him to wakefulness. He stretched, his arms stretching over his head, his horns rolling from side to side as he emitted a low hum. His eyes fell on to the slumbering form of Aiko, her blue skin glinting in the pale morning light. For a second, the adult Jotunn wondered if his skin caught the light the way his daughter’s did. It was a breathtaking sight. He pressed a kiss to her head, breathing in her rich scent of lavender and oil paints, still unable to block the faint odor of ozone and fresh, spring rain.

  
The prince of Asgard let his princess lie, sneaking off to the bathroom to complete his morning rituals. His hair, cut back over six months ago to the length it had been before his fall, had grown out past his shoulder blades, thick and curtain-like, braided into his traditional fauxhawk. He would need to cut it again when he returned home in the next few days.

  
He clicked back through the bedchamber, smiling broadly at his sleeping child, and hurried to meet his brother to finalize their agreements between realms. April had become the month of visitation for the Laufeyson family. Aksel was still young, though far from small, and, after an incident that involved the smashing of a vase that was older than the worlds, the royal family of Jotunnheim did not visit Asgard often. Jotunn developed slower than mortals or Aesir, and his nephew had just reached the toddling phase, roving about the halls, his voice ringing through the halls of ice as Loki drew closer to the royal chambers of the Kings.

  
“Aksel! Get back here!” Elksa was shouting from the open door of the small chamber reserved for state business. The little Jotunn paid no mind to his father. Instead he barreled down the hallway, the multi-colored lights from the massive stained glass windows reflecting off his bald head, towards his slim uncle. The effect of four and a half feet of pure muscle and baby fat crashing into a lean figure that weighed less than he did, caused Loki to stagger backwards, his arms wrapping around the child with a soft ‘ehehehe.’

  
“And how are we this morning, Aksel-Nephew?” he asked, a broad smile on his face as he looked at his brother’s child. The little one brought his maternal instinct to the fore, and he hugged the child closer, relishing in the closeness and the adorable toddler stage that his other niece and nephew had outgrown.

  
“Blue!” the toddle crowed, proud that he knew his uncle’s nickname, an unfortunate habit picked up from Aiko that had also passed on to Daryn and Torsten. While the name bestowed on him during his exile held a warm place in his heart, he had hoped that his brothers’ children would refer to him as Uncle Loki, not a primary color. He sighed as he waddled the little heir back to his brother-in-law, the smaller boy standing on his horned feet, arms securely wound around his slim waist. At least Thor’s children weren’t calling him ‘Mama’ as they had tried to do nearly a million times since they had begun to talk.

  
“How are you this morning, Elksa-King?” Loki asked, his eyes flitting to the larger Jotunn’s stomach where a tiny swell was just barely visible, before focussing on his brother-in-law’s face.

  
“Well, besides a little nausea, thank you, Loki-All-Father, for asking. And you?” Elksa’s voice was a soft rumble, his hands rubbing the Crown on his son’s head gently.

  
“Very well,” the small Jotunn responded, smiling. “I enjoy being greeted by my nephew in the morning. Our visits are so rare, I feel like I miss so much during the winter months, including the birth of the newest addition to our family.”

  
Elksa nodded with understanding. He could say the same for the heirs of Asgard, though they developed much faster than the Jotunn. “Well, I must take this rascal now so that you and Helblindi-King may conclude your business. Thor-King will be wanting you back in the next day or so, I would wager. I am assuming you have heard of the raiders?”

  
The All-Father nodded, his scrying had kept him informed, not only of his family back home, but of the strife among the Nine. Currently, a band of brigands had materialized, stealing, pillaging and destroying bits and pieces of the Realms only to dispel into thin air when any sign of troops arrived. “Yes, Thor and I will be discussing ways to deal with them upon my return. It’s a rather troubling and pressing matter and it will be dealt with quickly, I assure you.”

  
Bowing to his brother-in-law, and hugging his nephew enthusiastically, Loki ducked into the state room, finding his brother alone, pouring through documents with a singular focus. “Helblindi-Brother,” the smaller Jotunn said, announcing his presence and greeting his younger sibling.

  
“Loki-Brother.” Helblindi looked up from the parchment and gestured for the smaller Jotunn to sit. “I am just looking at what we’ve accomplished thus far, and I must say, that everything appears to be in order.”

  
“What is left to discuss?” the All-Father asked, his horns inclined and curious.

  
Helblindi slid the documents across the iced tabletop with a finality. His ruby eyes roved over his older sibling, piercing, but filed with caring. “We need to talk, Loki-Brother, about you.”

  
The smaller Jotunn cocked his eyebrow and released a soft snort, turning his attention from the intense gaze of the King of Jotunnheim to the treaties in his hands. Determined to change the subject, he asked, “May I ask a request of you first, Helblindi-King?”

  
“Of course, anything for my brother,” the other Jotunn chuckled.

  
Loki raised his eyes from the parchment briefly, shuffling it nervously within his grasp. “I would like to bring further unity to our peoples through a royal marriage.”

  
“Oh? And whose marriage would that be? Already trying to rid yourself of Daryn-Princess? I know she can be a bit of a handful.” The taller man’s eyebrow was raised jovially, a smirk playing at his lips. “I am not entirely sure I approve the match for Aksel. I’d prefer that he found his life-mate, if you don’t mind.”

  
Loki flinched at the mention of life-mates and covered it with a gentle shake of his horns. “No, no, Helblindi-Brother. Between Aiko-Princess and Ren Aslaugson. I understand that his bearer is a lesser noble among our people and his sire was an Aesir of great diplomatic power. It has been nearly six years since the boy confessed that my daughter is his life-mate. I have given him permission to pursue her, though I must admit that my Child of Love is playing hard to get. I just want, when the time comes, for you to acknowledge this bond within your court. Can you do that?”

  
Helblindi clapped his hands together enthusiastically. “Why of course, Loki-Brother! What kind of uncle would I be to deny my niece’s happiness? It shall be a wonderful match!” He laughed, his rich deep rumble rolling through the room and into the halls beyond. “But now, we must talk of _you_ , Loki-All-Father.”

  
“What about me?” His ruby gaze immediately returned to the documents in his claws, shuffling the papers aimlessly.

  
He heard Helblindi sigh, the ice chair he reclined in creaking as he shifted his weight, leaning back. The younger sibling was perceptive. There was something that had been wearing on his older brother and it had been festering for some time. Knowing Loki, it was probably years. “What has been weighing on your mind, Loki-Brother? And do not say nothing. Whatever it is, it has been bothering you for some time _and_ it is something that you cannot discuss with anyone of your Aesir family. I know this to be true, so do not deny it. Know that you can talk to me. I wish to help you.”

  
Helblindi’s large hand reached over and covered Loki’s Claws, bringing his hands and the pacts down to the table. The older Jotunn’s ruby eyes met his brother’s gaze. He knew that he should tell someone that he trusted about the life-mate bond, someone besides Frigga who knew nothing about the cause and could do nothing about it.

  
He sighed, pulling a hand free to idly stroke one of his horns, finding comfort in the smooth rings that rubbed against his callouses. “I believe that I have found my life-mate, Heblindi-Brother,” he breathed, the confession pouring from his blue lips in a rush.

  
“Why Loki-All-Father, that is wonderful news!” The younger Frost Giant beamed, his three inch fangs catching the rainbow light from the floor to ceiling stained glass windows. The expression did not last long, however, as his older brother shook his head back and forth, frustration crinkling his Horns. “Why does it make you unhappy?”

  
“Look at me, Brother. I am not but a small Jotunn with peculiar features. Ugly, just like my past. I do not _deserve_ to find happiness Helblindi,” Loki said fervently, all ceremony forgotten. “Not in Asgard, not with him. He is a far better man than I could ever dream to be.”

  
“But Loki,” Helblindi squeezed his brother’s hand urgently, “that is why your life-mate is known as your ‘better half.’ He should make you want to be that better Jotunn. I know Elksa does that for me.”

  
“Yes, but the two of you are perfect together, ice and snow. You do not have one without the other. This man is so unlike me, it is night and day.”

  
“They say that opposites attract.”

  
“Again, that is true. But this man is _Aesir._ ”

  
“I could have guessed that, Loki-Brother. You are...uh...not exactly built to breed with others of our kind. The life-mate bond would only activate for a viable partner, your other half. Maybe the reason you are drawn to him is because he will balance you, equalize the parts that you find less than desirable within yourself and make you a better ruler of the Nine. Yes?”

  
“No, Helblindi, you do not understand. He is _Aesir_ and the Law of the Aesir prevents the union of two men or two women. The act of intercourse alone, if discovered, results in twenty-five lashes and years in prison. If it is repeated, it results in castration or neutering. And besides, what would he think? Who would ever wish to be an outcast in their own society?”

  
“But surely Thor-King would change the Law for his brother?” Helblindi rubbed his hand over his sibling’s ridges, the friction releasing a calming effect. The younger Jotunn smiled, though he could not understand why his wise, scholarly brother had not thought to just change the harsh Law to begin with. Unless... “ _Oh_.” It was more of a breath than a statement, the air rushing from the larger Frost Giant’s massive lungs in a rush, rippling the fly-aways in Loki’s braid.

  
“‘Oh’ is right,” Loki muttered, his hand stilling to wrap around the keratin protruding from his brow.

  
“And I guess you have not told him?” Loki’s eyebrow raised in an ‘oh, please’ expression, his lips turned downward in a small frown. “How long have you known?”

  
“It will be six years in November.”

  
“Brother, that is too long to go without telling him. Surely Aiko knows of Ren’s intentions?” The smaller Frost Giant nodded once, his gaze fixed on the center of the table. Helblindi continued, “Then the boy, while being dragged along, is not going mad at least. You, on the other hand, Loki-Brother, are letting it consume you. You will go mad if you do not at least tell him. His response may surprise you.”

  
“Oh, yes, Helblindi-Brother. I will run to him off the Bifrost and leap into his arms and say, ‘Remember when you lost your memory and found me attractive? It was right before your wife died. Well, it woke some deep, animalistic need within me, Brother. And now, I can smell you and your ozone-y glory even when I am in Jotunnheim. For a MONTH out of every year! AND, whenever I am near you, I become impossibly aroused and my mouth tingles with the desire to mark you as my own. Oh, please Thor, please mate with me!’”

  
Helblindi was laughing at his older sibling’s antics as the smaller Jotunn sat sideways in his chair, his arms wrapped around the icy back as if it were the King of Asgard’s broad shoulders, his feet kicking away in reckless abandon and his face mocking the young crush, eyes huge and shining, crazy smile upon his lips.

  
“Blue?”

  
Loki’s feet dropped quickly to the floor as his body spun to face the doorway. “Aiko!” he gasped, immediately ashamed of his immature outburst. “My Child of Love! How long have you been standing there?”

 

“Long enough,” she replied quietly, crossing her arms uncomfortably over her chest. 

“Aiko,” the small Jotunn breathed, rushing towards his daughter, his arms open to wrap her into a tight embrace. “I am sorry you had to hear that. I-I wasn’t thinking straight. I was joking. I-”

  
The teenager pushed him away, a look of disbelief in her ruby eyes. “No.” Her father’s apologetic face fell, and he hung his head as he backed away slowly, self-loathing boiling up in the pit of his stomach. He was such a monster that his own bodily urgings were driving his own child away.

  
It was Helblindi who spoke next, surveying the state of despair that his brother had fallen into and the anger that his niece was radiating from her frame. “Aiko-Niece.”

  
The girl shifted her focus towards her uncle. “Come here, child.”

  
It was very clear to the taller Frost Giant that the small woman would have had no intentions of going to him except that she knew he could demand it. _Ruling a country had some positives_ , he reflected as he watched the chocolate haired girl walk slowly towards him, her arms still tightly wound around her hourglass figure. The King of Jotunnheim sighed. He knew that his brother was ashamed of his form, his very nature, and it was apparent that he had told very little of the implications to his Aesir family.

  
“Aiko-Princess, how much do you know about your father’s people? The Jotunn are different from Aesir in so many ways.” His deep, gravely voice was calm, level but commanding.

  
The woman did not meet her uncle’s eyes and replied, “I know that Jotunn are intersex and can bear and sire children. I know that they are cold externally but warm inside. I know that that Jotunn have seidr that allows them to manipulate ice and snow. It’s something that I inherited from my father.” She held up her palm to reveal a tiny, perfect rose of ice resting in the middle of the blue.

  
Helblindi smiled. She knew the obvious, what she would have learned from interacting and living with the Jotunn for the last twenty-two years. “That is a good start, Aiko-Niece. You should know, however, that we do not marry. Do you see this?” He pointed to a faint circular scar where his neck and shoulder met, directly over the thick tendon there. His niece’s ruby eyes traced the scar, a question written across her face. “It’s a bit faded. It’s been nearly twenty-five years since I received this.”

  
“How did you get it, Helblindi-Uncle? It must have been given by a rather strange weapon.” Her face was curious, it no longer held the anger that she was feeling towards her father over his little outburst.

  
“Unusual indeed, though not a weapon - a mouth. I got it, and gave one myself, during my first mating with Elksa.” A faint, purple blush rose to color the young woman’s cheeks. “As Jotunn, we do not marry. Marriage is an arrangement, a pact. It is not always borne out of love. Instead, we Jotunn spend our lives searching for what are known as life-mates. They are our other half and it is an instinct derived from the deepest and purest love. Once a Jotunn finds his life-mate, he can scent him anywhere in the Nine realms, a constant reminder of how he completes you and how you cannot live without him. Once the bond is instigated, the urge to mate grows, and with the need to mate comes the instinct to mark and claim him as your own. Then the pair are viewed as partners, equals for the rest of their lives.”

  
“So...Ren is my life-mate?” Her question was small, barely audible.

  
“According to your father, yes.”

  
The teenager turned to the other Jotunn, who was trying to appear small and insignificant in the corner, his insecurity displayed in the arms that were crossed around his body. “Is this true, Blue?” His daughter’s eyes were wide, questioning.

  
“Yes. When he asked my permission to date you right before the twins were born, I could tell that it was more than a passing crush. He was so earnest, so desperate, and so I asked and he answered me honestly. Your scent haunted him as soon as he was reborn. And so, I gave him permission. It was you, my Darling Child, that refused his advances at the time. My permission still stands. He is a wonderful boy and I can see how happy he makes you. And that is all a parent wants, to see their child happy and loved.” He gave his child a soft smile, love radiating from his face as his arms dropped to his sides.

  
His child smiled back at him shyly, her cheeks still flushed. She ran to his arms, throwing herself into her father’s strong arms. “I’m so sorry, Blue. I didn’t know and I promised you that I would love you no matter what and I shouldn’t have gotten upset. You deserve to been happy and loved too, Blue. It’s just... _strange_...Thor. I mean, he’s your br - my uncle.” She snuggled deep into his chest. “I’m just sad that you didn’t tell me earlier.”

  
The small Jotunn guffawed. “And have you react the way you just did, no thank you!” He kissed the top of her head. “Besides, nothing will come of it. As you have said, Thor is my brother, and the King of Asgard. He will marry again in a political alliance with a noblewoman from one of the Nine. I believe that talks and delegations have already begun.”

  
“I would not be so set against your own happiness, Loki-Brother,” Helblindi chided. “If you do nothing, you _will_ crumble to madness. I do not think that Odin All-Father had you inherit his title to fail because you refuse to acknowledge that you are worthy and deserving.”

  
“You should tell him, Blue.” Aiko looked up at her father, squeezing his waist in her blue, ridged arms. “What is the worst that could happen?”

  
Loki smiled, knowing exactly what could happen. It was not good.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Bilskirnir, Asgard**

  
Thor sat in his sitting room, scanning the piles of papers before him, his frustration mounting. Why did he have to remarry? He already had two beautiful heirs. They were his everything, his last bit of Jane, though neither of them retained any of her features besides Daryn’s small nose and mouth and Torsten’s chin. His little princess was like the female version of himself, reckless and wild, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed hurricane of trouble. Torsten was more reserved, like his late-wife in that way, but also very similar to his brother, with his raven hair and those highly intelligent emerald eyes. Those eyes, last seen flickering with pain and flooding scarlet after Aiko’s art opening all those years ago on Midgard.

  
_Loki_. For some reason, this month had been so long, it dragged on impossibly. He realized that the reason April was the longest and dreariest month of the year was because it was the month that his younger sibling was in Jotunnheim. He missed the other man’s silver tongue, lashing the Council members with his truthful and intelligent statements. His ears strained to hear the soft click of the prince’s claws on the marble floors and the sound of his throaty laughter. The trickster, enlivened by the twins, had fallen back into concocting elaborate pranks like the jokes he had shared with Thor before his Fall. While they were rather childish, the jokes never ceased to make the King of Asgard laugh.

  
One day, the Jotunn had turned all of the shrubs in the garden into green, leafy sheep that ate all the flowers that Loki despised and chased the guards away until their task was done. Frigga had not been amused but Daryn and Torsten loved it, frolicking with the strange creatures until sundown, giggling and shrieking with delight. Another time, when Torsten refused to eat his vegetables, his brother had transformed the offending broccoli into pudding which he fervently claimed had the same nutritional value, and resulted in everyone, except for the blue man, getting brain freezes. Just last month, on a hunt for the monstrous dragon, Fafnir, in Svartalfheim, the sorcerer had used Thor as bait, waiting until the beast was thoroughly distracted before transfiguring it into a puppy, which he then brought home for the twins. And now that foul creature had chewed up one of the King’s Vanaheim wool slippers, it’s golden fleece littering the sitting room and the hallway beyond.

  
Despite the youthful fun that Loki had been concocting for the amusement of his niece and nephew, he was all business in court and council meetings. He was truly wise beyond his years, delving into the knowledge he had procured from Odin as well as wisdom gained from his own experiences to lead to peaceful resolution of most conflicts through Loki-helmed treaties and agreements. Since his brother’s return from the Midgard prison, there had been only one tragedy, one blow to the Nine that could not be undone or made right - the attack on his own family. The God of Thunder shuddered at the thought, remembering everything that had transpired.

  
He shook his head, his thoughts pulled back to the present. His brother would be returning today with his niece and the longest month of the year would draw to a close. Thor smiled, his attention returning to the large stack of papers on the coffee table in front of him. One stack contained a jumble of reports, news from the outskirts of the realms of the Nine. The raiders had been growing bolder, no world was left untouched. Every report was the same. The brigands seemed to appear out of nowhere, fog rolling beneath their boots, obscuring their figures and forms. They ravaged the towns of their choosing, pillaging and burning, and, sadly, on three accounts, raping, as they went. As soon as any authority drew near, the fog would roll out and the townsfolk would be let empty handed - their prized possessions gone, their crops destroyed or burned, their stores empty, their bodies broken.

  
The King of Asgard rubbed his face with his hands. This problem was technically not his. Loki was All-Father of the Nine, though no one outside of their family knew that. The blonde god was but a figurehead, protecting his younger brother as was his duty since the day Loki was brought home to Asgard as a bawling babe. He dreaded what would happen if the Nine discovered that the position of All-Father had passed to the Jotunn ex-criminal. There were still a great deal of people who refused Asgard’s aid because of his brother’s position as Chief Advisor, and a great deal more who still viewed the Frost Giants as less that their own race, an animalistic pack of blue cannibals. Nothing could be further from the truth, Thor knew, and Aiko and Loki were making the changes they could, but change was slow in coming. His brother, the strongest man he knew, could not walk in public alone without fear for his life, the incident involving Aslaug flew into Thor’s mind causing him to shudder again.

  
Gently, he pushed the stack of reports to the side to shuffle through the other pile. While the news of the raiders was unsettling, this stack of papers and portraits brought him utter depression. As King of Asgard, it was his duty to rule the realms justly, to govern his people, put them first and above all. One of those duties was to remarry - a political match for the betterment of the realms, despite the fact that any children resulting from that union would have no access to the throne. It belonged to Torsten, and he would be a wise, thoughtful ruler and a great warrior, the best of both of his parents.

  
No, the women his mother had selected were fine women of upstanding morals with delicate breeding, noblewomen. They were beautiful, some of the most beautiful women in all the realms from Niflheim, Vanaheim, Aelfheim, Asgard. They all had amazing qualifications and they would be perfect queens within their own rights. Yet, he was not attracted, or drawn to any of them in any way. No matter how hard he looked, he could not see himself waking beside one of those women every morning for the rest of his long life.

  
He was not over Jane, his perfect wife who had given him his two beautiful children, but he had moved on. There were days when he would wait for her to walk into the room, her arms filled with library books, her small frame bending over backwards to keep them from falling to the floor. Then he’d look up and find his brother in that same position, his arms loaded with ancient, dust covered tomes, a broad smile on his face. It was an image that he loved, a highlight to his day. A reminder of how similar his brother and his late wife truly were. He had moved on but it was in a direction that was uncomfortable, strange, and confusing.

  
“Daddy, Daddy!” Thor dropped the papers back onto the table, a smile breaking out across his face as he turned to embrace his children. He scooped one up into each of his thick, muscular arms.

  
“Oh, how I have _missed you_!” he exclaimed into their hugs, kissing the tops of their heads. He held them tightly as they squirmed and giggled. “How was school today, my Little Ones?”

  
His kids pulled back out of his arms, each one gripping his hands and pulling him towards the couch, his hearty laugh mixing with their giggles. Swiftly, he plopped himself down in the middle of the cushions and pillows, Daryn snuggling into his left side, Torsten on his right, his arms wrapped protectively around them.

  
“Daddy! You’ll _never_ guess what we learned today!” Daryn said enthusiastically. “It was so cool!”

  
“What did you learn about, my Princess?” Thor asked, his curiosity peaked.

  
Daryn smiled broadly. “We learned about the monsters today, Daddy! Monsters that Tory and I are going to hunt down and slay!” 

The King’s brow furrowed at his daughter’s enthusiasm. “Darling, what kinds of monsters did your teacher talk about today? Dragons? Bilgesnipe? Chitauri?”

  
“No, Daddy,” Torsten said shaking his head as if his father was a younger child. “The Frost Giants.”

  
Thor’s stomach plummeted. “What?”

  
“The Frost Giants, Daddy. The big, blue, scarred creatures with blood red eyes that eat Aesir children in the middle of the night.” His son looked at him curiously. “They are always attacking us or other realms and we have to fight back. We _always_ fight back. Why haven’t you killed them all, Daddy? Like you did with the Dark Elves? Don’t you want to save us from the Frost Giants? What if one of them comes and eats us or attacks Asgard?” His emerald eyes were wide, terrified. He could feel Daryn snuggle closer to his side.

  
“Children,” he sighed, seriousness coating his features. “The Frost Giants are not monsters. They do not eat children, in fact, they truly love children, especially you. We are at peace with them. We have been for some time. Why does you teacher fill you head with this nonsense?”

  
“But Daddy,” Daryn whispered. “How do you know they are not monsters?”

  
“Daddy,” Torsten chimed in. “They are awful and mean and ugly and they turn everything they touch into ice. No one likes them, that’s why no one talks to them or invites them places. If I meet a Frost Giant, I will kill him on the spot.”

  
“Oh.”

  
Thor stood quickly, spinning towards the doorway. “Loki.” The Jotunn that he had been missing so desperately was standing in the open doorway, his emerald traveling cloak still wrapped around his Mantle. “Brother.”

  
The King opened his arms to his younger sibling, offering comfort. The Jotunn stood stalk still in the doorway, his face pulled into it’s unemotional mask as his scarlet eyes revealed his heartbreak.

 

The twins launched themselves from the couch and rushed to their uncle’s side, wrapping their strong, but small arms around his legs and waist. “BLUE!” they shouted in a loud cacophony, “You’re back!”

  
Unable to resist, though his face was utterly blank, he knelt and hugged the little ones that he had borne for so long, that he had helped raised - that had unwittingly vowed to kill him, to his cool body. Their words still rang in his ears. They sounded so like Thor from his childhood as he vowed to hunt down and kill every last one of the heinous beasts, the Frost Giants. It had cut him so deeply, knowing that his feelings for the God of Thunder would be rejected on the basis of his children’s lack of acceptance. Gently, he pulled the twins from his shoulders and looked at them levelly, a cool hand on each shoulder. Softly, he asked, “My Darlings, why do you want to kill the Frost Giants? They have not wronged anyone in years. What have they done to you?”

  
“But Blue,” Daryn rashly said, “We want to keep our family safe. Don’t you want to do that too?”

  
“Of course, my dear. I would not let anything ever happen to you or to your brother. I love you too deeply. But why are you specifically targeting the Frost Giants? Have they done anything to hurt you?”

  
The heir spoke next, his emerald eyes, those same eyes that once graced his own face, focused on his uncle’s face. “Blue, they are monsters. Don’t they deserve to die?”

  
“All of them, my darlings?” His eyes searched their determined faces before averting his eyes and swallowing visibly. “Even me?” It was soft, gentle, but pain-filled.

  
The twins laughed, squeezing him into another hug. “You’re so funny, Blue!”

  
“Yeah, Blue. You’re Aesir, just like me and Daryn and Daddy and Grandmother and Aiko. You’re just being silly.”

  
Loki kissed the cheeks of his niece and nephew, amused by their innocence. When he pulled back, he held each one at arms length, his face serious. “Look at me, children and tell me what you see. Do I look like you?”

  
“Well,” the dark-haired boy answered, “No, but Daddy said that you’re a powerful sorcerer and you can change you appearance. I just figured that you just like the color blue.”

  
“What do I look like, with my cold skin, my pointed teeth and my red eyes?” Loki gave the little ones a small smile, his lips firmly closed.

  
Daryn gasped then shrieked, “DON’T EAT ME!” She ran away, pulling her small body from his arms and cowered behind her father. Torsten, however, did not run. His eyes seemed to be viewing his uncle in a new light.

  
“Loki, I am so sorry. I don’t know why their teacher had instilled any of this nonsense into their impressionable, young minds. It will be remedied, I assure you.” Thor looked like he was about to cry, his pain written across his face as he rubbed his daughter’s back.

  
“It’s alright, Thor. I’ll just have to make another trip to the school, just like I did for Aiko.” He slowly raised his hand and placed it lightly on his nephews shoulder. The boy flinched but did not back away. “We cannot have my people slandered for the next generation.”

  
A small finger began to follow his Claws, tracing the patterns left behind from his vambraces gently. “Blue.” The small voice was not horrified or afraid, causing the Jotunn’s eyebrows to pull together as he watched the heir and the boy’s singular fascination with the ridges that coated his body. “Why would our teacher say that you are evil? You are the nicest person in the world!”

  
Loki smiled widely, his heart swelling, the pieces reassembling as he laid a hand on the side of the little boy’s head, gently cupping his face. “Torsten, not everyone is as understanding as you are. Everyone does things that they find regrettable, but only when looking back. There was a time, not very long ago, when the Frost Giants were doing those things. But it ended long before you were born. There was a king who ruled them who was cruel and even tried to kill his own first born because he was less than the perfect Frost Giant. That king was defeated in battle by your Grandfather Odin and the king would send his warriors to Asgard and the other realms in secret so that they could steal children as revenge.”

  
Torsten shuddered, his small body terrified. The Jotunn pulled the boy into his arms. “That king is gone. He was killed before you were born, right around the time that I learned about my adoption and how I was one of those terrifying Frost Giants. Now, there is a wonderful king in Jotunnheim, my younger brother whom you will meet someday. The Frost Giants, or Jotunn as we prefer to be called, are peaceful. We just want to be accepted, even if we’re a little frightening to behold. You have nothing to worry about, I promise you that no Frost Giants are going to steal you away and eat you. I will not allow it to happen.”

  
The Jotunn hugged his nephew and left his right arm open for his niece, who had slowly inched closer to him. When Daryn entered his embrace, he felt whole again. “Though, you certainly do look delectable.” He began to tickle and nuzzle the little ones, their strong scents mingling with the ever-present scent of their father.

  
Their shrieks brought Thor to their little group, his scent becoming sharper and pungent.

  
“DADDY! DADDY! HELP US!”

  
“THE VICIOUS FROST GIANT HAS CAPTURED US!”

  
“I will save you!” Thor thundered, his hands joining in the tickle fun.

  
“Never!” Loki hissed through his fang-y smile, wrapping his arms securely around the little, squealing five year olds. His ‘ehehehe’ echoed through the halls, signaling his joy of being home, with his mother, his niece and nephew, his brother. And oh, how he had missed them.  
_________________________________

  
Later that evening, the twins securely tucked into bed, a Jotunn fairy tale read to them until they drifted off, the Frost Giant found his brother in his private sitting room sifting through papers.

 

“Thor,” Loki began. “We need to talk.”

  
The King of Asgard looked up at the tall, horned figure, noting the stern look that covered his features, the arms crossed over his lightly muscled chest. “Sure, Brother. If I have to read another report about the women of the Nine, I think I may scream in frustration.” He set the papers down with a huff.

  
“What do you mean ‘the women of the Nine’?” His younger sibling’s face seemed to lose some of it’s color. “Does this have to do with Mother’s wish for you to remarry?”

  
“Yes,” Thor grumbled. “It is my duty to take a wife. As is yours, _All-Father_.”

  
“Yes, well...maybe that’s what I wanted to talk with you about.” The admission just flowed from his lips. His older brother’s brow furrowed and his blue eyes focused on his younger sibling’s red pair.

  
Loki bit his lip and took a deep breath. “Brother, what do you know about Jotunn rituals? Particularly those related to, um...courting?”

  
Thor cocked an eyebrow and shook his head. “Why are you asking, Brother?”

  
The Jotunn flinched at the word ‘brother’ but answered the question anyway. “Because the Jotunn are the only species that mates entirely for love and only love. They become aware of the bond with scent, the scent of their perfect other half, what is known as their life-mate. And that scent connects them over miles and between worlds. It is ever present, a constant reminder of their love, their partnership, how they complete each other. That scent is accompanied by a need, an internal aching, that can only be calmed when the two partner’s consummate their relationship. And, when one comes into heat, they mate for the first time and mark each other, announcing to the rest of the Realms that they are now one. They are no longer parts, they are a whole.”

  
Thor sighed, tears playing at the corners of his bright blue eyes. “That is beautiful, Brother. I...I wish that you find your life-mate. I will not let Mother pressure you into a loveless union, but...I don’t see how I can get out of this. The love of my life is gone and yet, I must find another.” The king sighed, wiping his brow wearily. The Jotunn itched to wrap the man that he loved in his arms but made no move towards his brother. Instead, he cast his ruby eyes to the floor, worried about what he was about to say.

  
“What if the love of the first chapter of your life has passed and the next one is waiting for you Thor? What...Wuh-” Loki stuttered, knowing the implication that his next statement held. His mind flashed to a conversation they had had before Jane’s untimely death.

  
_“Thor,” he said calmly. “Look at me.” The blonde god’s eyes met his ruby pair. “I see you, Brother. I have always seen you,” the King of Asgard replied quietly. “Answer me honestly then Brother: Would you lie with me?” Loki’s face was sincere._

  
_“Loki...I...I, uh, I will always love you, Brother, but just as that. My little brother. ” _

  
_“My point exactly. You, Thor, are the only person in this room who would claim to care for me beyond casual friendship. You, Thor, know me the best. You also know about my body, my...sexuality. If you would not lie with me, why would a complete stranger? I have **breasts** , Thor. They’re going to be here for a while. And even after they shrink and fade: What about the **other parts** , Thor? Only a Jotunn would have me, but wait - I’m a **horned runt**. A Frost Giant,  if he would take a **barbarian** like me,  would **break** me. And so, I am selfishly keeping myself from feeling like more of a  freak than I already am.”_

  
Taking a deep breath, he whispered, “What if he’s been here the whole time but was to blind to see it and then too afraid to do anything about it?”

  
Thor’s eyes widened as the other man’s words and awkward posture settled into his mind. “Loki...?”

  
The Jotunn continued, wringing his hands in front of him, not meeting his brother’s eyes. “I-I have been harboring a _terrible_ secret, Thor. My true nature knew long before my mind did, I think. I-it wasn’t until you lost your memory that it hit me. Ozone, fresh, clean rain, the bite of lemon grass. It haunts me, no matter where I am, no matter what I am doing, no matter who I’m with. No matter that I’ve just spent the last month in _Jotunnheim_. It’s _always_ there. And when I am near you, I feel like I am on fire, Thor, burning with this painful, deep-seated need that I cannot shake. Nor do I think I want to.” He stopped, clearing his throat. “You are my life-mate, Thor. I know that it is not lawful here in Asgard, I understand that it is not reciprocated, I know that I do not deserve such love from you, my _brother_.”

 

The Jotunn turned his back to the blonde man, suddenly ashamed and conflicted by his pronouncement. He sucked in a breath, his hands gripping the base of his horns, yanking his head too and fro. “Norns! You are my _BROTHER_! _What is wrong with me?!_ _Why_ does it have to be you? But it _is_ you.” He paused pulling himself out of his thoughts and back into the conversation, returning to face the other man. “It’s **always** been you.” His ruby eyes found his brother’s blue pair. “ **Thor**.” His gruff voice caressed the word reverently, tenderly, as his eyes shined brightly. “Thor, I needed you to know that I love you more deeply than anything in all the Nine and that I would do anything, _anything_ for you. You’re my better half.”

  
The silence was so thick that a knife could cut it. The Jotunn’s feet shifted uncomfortably. He spoke again as he turned from the shocked face of the man in the fire light. “I am sorry that I am made this way - a hideous monster of the wastes of Jotunnheim driven by such a base, animalistic need, but I will not apologize for my feelings.”

  
He slowly clicked across the floor, tears springing into his eyes, the rejection stinging so badly that he did not hear the thud of booted feet behind him. A large, hot hand grabbed his arm and spun him around as if he weighed nothing. His wide, ruby eyes met his brother’s blue orbs briefly before a new sensation covered his mouth. Lips, full and hot, pressing reverently into his thin, cool pair as if they were the only thing connecting the taller man to the world. The burning need ignited, causing the Jotunn to cling to the taller man, wrapping an arm around his shoulders while the other fell to the small of his muscular back. A large hand cradled the back of his head while the other tilted his chin slightly, encouraging him to open his cool mouth to the hot breaths and tongue of the other man, returning the favor as his own pink tongue plunged into the hot depths that were opened to it.

  
Breathing heavily, the brothers broke apart, eyes wide and lustful, lips swollen and tingling. “What was that, Thor?” Loki asked quietly, shocked at the exchange. “Are you mocking me in my weakness, in my need?”

  
“It was necessary, Loki, to show you that you are not alone.” The large hands framed his thin, lined face, the large thumbs stroked the sharp cheekbones and the Bergelmir’s Tears that were found there. “I love you too, Loki, so very much.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

The Jotunn pulled away, relinquishing his grasp on the blonde’s broad back. His eyes, wide with shock. “You-you love me?” he stammered softly. “Can you not see me? I’m...I’m not Jane...I’m not Aesir...I’m blue, Thor! BLUE! With RED eyes, like blood. Like the blood of the people I’ve KILLED! I have horns like some Muspelheim demon...I’m not even single sex! I am hideous...a monster.”

  
Thor quickly but gently covered the thin blue lips with his warm pair, chastely kissing the Jotunn. When he withdrew, his pupils were blown out, huge and flickering in the candle and firelight. “Don’t you realize that everything you have just described makes you you? And I love _you_.”

  
His brother’s nostrils were flared, his scarlet eyes were still wide with disbelief. “But...but...you don’t like...m-men.” His arms were crossed over his ridged chest, closing himself off as he prepared to be rejected, as he always had been. As he thought he always would be.   
“But, Loki, my Love, you may identify as male but you are no man. You are Jotunn and perfect. Perfect for the Nine, perfect for the realm, perfect for my children. Perfect fuh-for me.” The God of Thunder stood, backlit by the moonlight streaming in from the large windows, his large hands open, palms facing the man that had been his younger brother for as long as he could remember. Until now. Now, he wanted him to be more, to fill the void that lived in his chest - the emptiness left by Jane - with the love of someone he had known for so much of his life. Someone he had loved for centuries but hadn’t realized it. _Loki_.

  
The Jotunn’s face twisted in disbelief, shock, fear, love. “Thor...,” he whispered.

  
“No,” the King of Asgard held up his hand, cutting off the other man. “Please, let me finish.” His blue eyes grew even deeper in color as tears started to fall down his flushed cheeks. “You don’t realize the influence you have had on my life, have you? You’re my little brother and I have always loved you. I always wanted to be the one there to pick you up, protect you from the monsters under the bed. And I did well, for the most part, until I allowed the kingship to go to my head and I became self-obsessed, determined to be a great warrior-king. And I forgot about you and only saw what I thought where your flaws. Then we had that trip to Jotunnheim, and I left you alone to lead the Nine and rule the realm and when I returned, you Fell because I wasn’t there to protect you from the scariest monster of all - yourself.”

  
The King wiped his cheeks, which made little headway against the tears that still fell. “I was not lying on Midgard, when I found you. We all mourned - I was devastated at the thought of your death. It was then I realized that you meant more to me than I had originally thought. I reconnected with Jane and fell in love, though I didn’t lose the feelings I had for you.

  
“When I brought you home, I thought things would be different: But your punishment was not something that anyone was expecting and I feared for you. I retained hope throughout your time on Midgard, knowing you’d return to us. And you did, a changed man. A reborn Jotunn. I will not lie to you, Loki. When I first laid eyes on you in your current state I was not prepared. It was not because I thought you monstrous. No, it was quite the opposite. I found you intimidating, regal, strikingly handsome. Jotunn but Aesir. You were my brother but in name alone.

  
“You selflessly bore my children and grew to be a figure of beauty, swollen with my offspring. Watching you feed my children from your very body was so peaceful, so perfect. When I lost my memories, I could not restrain myself. It was as if my subconscious was recalling everything I had ever felt for you and brought it to the fore. I still loved Jane, but I loved you too. It was as if Jane was the love of my life but you completed me.” Thor’s breath shuddered and Loki knew what was coming next and hugged himself tighter.

  
“After Jane passed away, it left a huge, gaping hole in my heart. You helped to patch me up. All those nights you sat beside me, humming me to sleep, your purr - Gods, your deep, rumbling, purr - became the sound that I needed to hear to let me know that I was alright, that I was still alive and that I was loved. I realized that our roles reversed. _You saved me, Loki_. You helped me live, you made me want to keep living. And now, hearing this confession from you, it is like the clouds have parted. You are my moon, the light in my darkest night.”

  
Loki gasped back a soft sob, his lip trembling. “I have found you to be my sun, ending the nights that threatened to engulf me.”

  
Thor smiled brightly through his tears. “You see, Brother, we are not so different, you and I.”

  
“But...but...,” the Jotunn stammered in disbelief. “You love me?” He smiled as if the words of the taller man had finally sunk in, his eyes shining, his fangs digging shyly into his lower lip.

  
“Yes, I love you.” The King of Asgard carefully and hesitantly took a step forward, a hand outstretched. The Jotunn, his strong desire flooding his senses, the stench of ozone flaring his nostrils, quickly closed the distance between them. Their lips came together hungrily as if they were the only beings that existed. The King eagerly ran his tongue over the cool lower lip of the other man, who shivered and gasped, allowing the hot tongue to plunge into his cool mouth and trace his fangs. The searing hot hands wandered all over his body, mapping it beneath eager fingertips and gentle pressure as he felt his body being pulled towards the King’s bed.

  
Suddenly terrified, Loki pulled away and turned his back to his brother.

  
“Loki?” Thor’s booming voice was small, hurt. “What is wrong?”

  
The Jotunn shivered, his arms again wrapping themselves around his wiry frame. “It’s not you, Thor. It’s me. I-I’m not ready. My body is telling me one thing, my brain another, and, unfortunately, my brain is winning. I cannot be intimate with you right now. I am not ready.”

  
A pair of strong arms wrapped around his cold frame, a hot exhale played through his hair and by his left ear. “That’s fine, Loki. Take you time. I have waited for you and I will wait for as long as you need me to.”

  
The Jotunn leaned his head back his horns gently nudging the other man’s head onto his left shoulder and he pressed his scarred cheek against the other man’s right ear and bearded cheek, reveling in the warmth found there. He sighed, “Thank you, Thor.”

  
The blonde’s beard gently scratched his ridges as he turned and planted a soft kiss on the Jotunn’s Bergelmir’s Tears with a loving sigh.  
______________________________________

  
“Mother, may we speak with you?” Frigga looked up from her workbench where she was busily categorizing the herbs her youngest had brought back to her from the wastes of Jotunnheim. Her two sons were standing side by side in the doorway of her private study, looking rather uncomfortable. She could not put her finger on it but something had changed between the two men. Her curiosity was peaked.

  
“Of course, my darling boys. I always have time for you.” Frigga smiled lovingly. “Come, have a seat!” She gestured towards the chairs and sofas that littered the room.

  
She noticed that her two sons looked at one another, a look in their eyes that she could not place, before they took a seat next to each other on the love seat, close but not touching. _Strange_ , the All-Mother thought as she sat opposite her precious babies, now fine men. “Shall I call for tea?”

  
The All-Father and King both shrugged and then nodded simultaneously. “Tea would be lovely, thank you,” Loki stated with a small smile.

  
Frigga signaled her maids to ring for the warm liquid and biscuits and then politely dismissed them. “Now, what is on your minds, my children?”  Thor looked like he was cowering, nervous, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his head bowed. Loki bit his lip and shot a sidelong glance at his brother before he began. “Do you remember what I confessed to you, Mother, about six years ago? About the life-mate bond of the Jotunn?”

  
The All-Mother’s eyebrows raised and a slow smile bloomed on her face. “Is-is it reciprocated?”

  
Loki beamed, his fangs all displayed. “Yes.” He placed his blue hand on his brother’s bulky thigh, while the other man smile back and covered the cool hand with his own larger one. “Yes, it is.”

  
“Ooooooh!” Frigga squealed in a rather undignified manner as she leapt up from her arm chair and raced to embrace her two children. She kissed Thor’s bearded cheek and stroked Loki’s scarred cheek lovingly. “Oh, my boys! I am so happy for you! I have been hoping, praying for this for years. Ever since Loki told me. Oh, goodness, I am just so unbelievably happy.”

  
“Mother, Mother! You are smothering us!” Thor chuckled as he squeezed his mother more tightly and gripped his younger brother’s clawed hand within his own warm palm.

  
The All-Mother pulled back, holding her boys’ free hands still beaming like the sun that had finally peaked out through the clouds. Her sons were so joyfully happy in that moment. Then it hit her. “We need to change the law, don’t we?”

  
“Yes,” Loki said, ever the realist. “We do. It, however, will not effect our relationship, regardless of whether the council passes the changes or not. It says nothing about a partnership between a man and a Jotunn. While I prefer being addressed as male, I am not, and, thus, am not breaking the Law. However, if I, the monster among gods, has earned a life with my life-mate, everyone else should too.”

  
“So, should we move towards an official marriage first?” Frigga asked.

  
“I...uh...I do not want to get married, Mother,” Loki said honestly. “I do not want to be Queen, or referred to as the All-Mother. Though,” he snickered with a snort, “Thor, I’m sure, would love to be called by that title.” The King of Asgard rolled his eyes before planting a gentle peck on the blue man’s ridged cheek.

  
“I second this motion, Mother. The Nine are not ready for a partnership like ours. We are not ready to formalize our union, much less to let it be known outside of our family. There may be a time when we will be ready for Asgard and the Nine to know, but it is not now.” Thor, still beaming, had a point.

  
The All-Mother sighed, “The Law it is, then.”

  
“Yes, the Law it is.”  
___________________________________

  
“I do not see the point of retaining such a hurtful law. Why can’t the Aesir choose to be with the person they love regardless of their sexuality?” Loki stated quietly from his place to the right of Thor. “Other Realms allow it, why should we suppress each individuals right to happiness?”

  
“Because, _Prince Loki_ , it is unnatural,” a lesser lord whose name the Jotunn had quite forgotten, sneered. “It is a relationship of lust, not love, when there is no child produced from it.”

  
“And what of the male-female couples who strive for years that never have children? Is their union unnatural?” Loki raised an eyebrow at the man, pleased to see that he had beaten him at his own game. “When did children a marriage make? If that were the case, then I would be Queen of Asgard right now, or have you forgotten how the royal heirs entered this world?”

  
“Yes, well, we are not here to discuss your...peculiar abilities.” The man spat disgustingly, causing the blue man to purse his thin lips together.

  
“Be careful how you speak. That is my _brother_ whom you address so crudely,” Thor said forcefully. “Can we return to the topic at hand? It is not the Jotunn we are discussing, but our own Aesir who have been living half-lives because of a law created thousands of years ago.”

  
“I think that I must stand behind the king in this decision,” the Lady Sif stated. “It seems like the just thing to do. After all, the punishment is cruel in and of itself, not to mention the discrimination and humiliation that those people must feel for just being themselves.”

  
“I think we should vote now,” Volstagg chimed in. “I believe that there is no debate. The Law must be abolished for Asgard to become the Realm of Peace that King Thor has envisioned it to be.”

  
“Fine,” Loki stated, nodding his head to his brother’s friends who had instantly thrown their support behind their king. “As Chief Counsel, I make a motion to enact a vote on the elimination of the Law that persecutes and prevents the rights of same-sex couples within the realm of Asgard. Those in favor, say ‘aye’.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

  
The vote had ruled against over turning the law - by one vote - and Loki was devastated. He had held it together in front of the counsel as he counted, tallied, and announced the result. His features were schooled, neutral, while internally, he was dying, his soul disintegrated. No matter what he had told Frigga the previous evening, he was male, albeit with a few extra features, and he saw the defeat as a direct attack against him and everything that he was. He had few friends among the council members and was sure that his enemies had put two and two together. Rumors of his sexuality had begun centuries ago, it was not new, and now that Thor was king, the bigoted counsel members believed that he was trying to erase the Law for his brother. The Aesir were not fond of Loki and had no intentions of allowing him to be happy. They had made that _very_ clear.

  
Now, he was curled in his nest, Thor’s strong arms wrapped around his sobbing shoulders and Aiko’s small, warms fingers tracing his ridges along his arms while the other hand ran through his hair. “Blue, it’s alright. We can over turn this. They’re just set in the old ways,” Aiko whispered optimistically. “We can do _something_ about this. We’ll find a way!”

  
“Your daughter is right,” his life-mate stated, his hands rubbing up and down his Rings and Claws before stopping to wrap his strong arms around the Jotunn’s Heart. “We’ll fix this.”

  
The blue man sighed, his loved-one’s ministrations keeping him from sinking into his traditional dark hole of misery and self-loathing. Through his despair, he was mulling over an idea in his mind, though he was unsure if he was ready to take that step. He sighed, laying his horns against Thor’s broad shoulder. “We have to marry,” the realization left his lips with a sad murmur.

  
Thor kissed Loki’s ridged cheek reassuringly. “I do not see how this connects to the Law, but I trust your judgement and I will happily take you as my wuh-husb-um...”

  
The blue man chuckled as he scraped frost from his cheeks, realizing that his poor partner really had no clear idea of how to address him, and, quite frankly, neither did he! It was a peculiar predicament, one that they would tackle together in the future. “Oh, don’t worry about it right now, Thor. You won’t be marrying me -”

  
The King of Asgard relinquished his hold, as did the teenager, both with rather shocked expressions on their faces. The blue leeched from Loki’s skin as it danced with a mixture of green and gold seidr, his fangs and claws retracting, his horns withdrawing into his brow as he moaned in pain. His feet, horned and curved became small and delicate, his frame shortening as is waist cinched and his hips rounded. The final touches bloomed on his chest, pert and small, as his thinned arms with their delicate hands crossed over the new, yet familiar acquisitions. A high, flutey and melodic voice completed the sentence the Jotunn’s deep gravelly tones had begun. “-You’re going to marry me.”

  
Aiko shrieked, never having seen her father make such a dramatic physical change before. “That is super scary, Blue! Was this necessary?” his daughter asked here eyes wide as she scanned the female body beside her. Her father ( _mother?_ ), always attractive in her mind (even when he could not see it in himself), made a stunning woman. Every line and curve was soft yet defined and toned, his hands and feet were delicate, his limbs supple. His face was breath-taking, emerald eyes large and bright, were perched over a straight, thin nose and perfectly proportioned Cupid’s bow lips. His facial construction, with the sharp chin, high cheekbones flushed pink in an embarrassed blush, and high brow was still very much her father, as was his ebony hair, though it appeared to have lengthened and thickened, tumbling in gentle waves down his bare back.

  
“This is necessary because the council will reject me if I appear as myself when I vie for Thor’s hand. Especially as a horned Jotunn runt who identifies as male. As an Aesir woman in appearance, I can slip past their scrutiny and the King will select me to be his bride. In the middle of the ceremony, I will let this illusion drop and take on the appearance that I have worn for most of my life, that of the Fallen Prince. At that point, two men will stand before the alter, bound in marriage and the Law will be moot. The council would not execute a king, especially not one so popular and beloved as Thor. In fact, I’d bet that the King of Asgard gets off very lightly. The people will only want their sovereign ruler to be happy and if it’s with a man, so be it.”

  
“But what of you, Loki? They could punish you,” the King whispered, concern etching his features.

  
The black-haired woman laughed, a light, lilting version of his typical, throaty ‘ehehe.’ “Darling,” he chuckled. “I am All-Father of the Realms. There is little they can do that I cannot undo with less effort and in less time.” He raised a small hand, with it’s thinly taper fingers, to his lover’s cheek, caressing the warmth lovingly. “Just call me Lady Oriana because they will be in for a surprise.” He chuckled darkly, or as darkly as his high voice could manage.

  
Slowly the laugh deepened and the man’s true form overtook his body. The Jotunn stopped giggling like a school boy when his horns and fangs erupted painfully, gasping against the sensation. Thor, concerned, waited for the shifting to subside before drawing his brother close and planting a tender kiss at the base of each horn as well as pecking him lovingly on the lips.

  
“I’m fine, I’m fine. There is no need to baby me,” the Chief Advisor muttered as his King’s hands gently rubbed his brow, stimulating his Horns and relieving the ache at the base of his protuberances. “It will take a bit of getting used to, that’s all.”

  
“Why shift back a forth at all, Blue? It’s obviously painful.” His daughter, ever the practical one, looked at him with a concerned expression on her face.

  
“Because,” he sighed. “Any form besides this one feels like I’m wearing clothing that is five sizes too tight and my horns punch at my frontal lobe, just as they did when they first appeared on Midgard. It’s manageable, but not quite comfortable. I’m pretty sure it’s a parting gift from Odin, reminding me of what I am and how I will never be anything else again.”

  
Thor’s cheek came to rest against Loki’s , his beard scratching at the raised lined there. “Or,” he whispered lovingly, “It is your body telling you that you are perfect just the way you are.” He kissed the Jotunn on the side of his face, near the edge of his bittersweet smile.

  
_You will not think me so perfect when you bed me, Brother-Mine_ , the Prince thought, recalling his strange deformity that the entire realm knew about but no one, besides Asha and Bruce, had ever seen.

  
“Daddy! Blue! Aiko!” The twins came rushing into the emerald bed chamber, Fafner at their heels, his favorite chew toy - Thor’s golden fleeced slipper - clutched in his teeth. The kids scrambled over the edge of the nest, tumbling down into the eager arms of their father while the pup dropped his prize and yipped, not enjoying his exclusion. Rolling his eyes at the quickly-growing beast, Loki reached over the edge of his bed and grabbed the squirmy Irish Wolfhound/Great Dane cross in one clawed hand and lifted him into the bowl. The dog scrambled his way over to the King, his favorite person, much to the Aesir’s obvious displeasure, and flopped over onto his back, submitting while his tongue lolled jovially. The twins frantically began to scratch and pet the exposed underbelly of the hound, giggling.

  
Daryn, ever the talker, launched into a tale about the adventures they had gone on through the day. “Our teacher talked about the monsters again today and we set her right, didn’t we, Tory? We said that one of our favorite people was a Frost Giant and he’s super nice. He even lets us play with his horns and no one else, not even Daddy is allowed to touch them.” She beamed, her small hand reaching upward. Sighing and shaking his head, Loki leaned down, allowing her hand to stroke the keratin that protruded from his brow. He was possessive of those particular features, the symbol of his utter descent into subhuman classification, and, while they brought him comfort, they also brought him great pain. They were a pair of reminders of the suffering he had endured and how he was rising above it. Another pair of hands grabbed his other horn, stroking it gently with soft fingertips.

  
“Then the teacher said that only the worst Frost Giants had horns, which is why their parents pull them out when they’re little. Why didn’t Grandmother and Grandfather do that, Blue? You’re the best, not the worst.” The young heir meant it kindly and said his piece with love but it still cut the Jotunn deeply.

  
With a sigh, Loki sat up, his horns freed from the little hands. Thor, wanting to comfort his lover, was torn because he had not told his children of what had transpired in the last twenty-four hours. He opted to allow Aiko to lay a slim arm around her father’s shoulder instead as he gathered the little ones, plus the pup into his lap. His brother smiled sadly at the two kindergartners that he had carried for nine months and loved as if they were his own. It was time they knew his story, especially if they were going to be defending him at school, as Aiko had done.

  
“Actually, my darlings, neither your father or I knew that I was Jotunn until about thirty years ago. Your grandparents adopted me when I was but hours old, taking me from Jotunnheim, where I was left to perish in the cold. I was a small, unnatural child, not what my original sire and bearer desired and was rejected, left for dead. The moment I was picked from the snows, my seidr transformed me into an Aesir. Your Grandfather, Odin, used his own seidr, the most powerful and potent in the Nine, the siedr of the All-Father, to make it permanent. I was raised believing that Thor was my brother, and Thor himself had just returned from a year-long quest on Nifleheim, claiming Mjolnir, and had no reason to think that I was not born of Frigga, your Grandmother. Then, thirty years ago, your father was set to take the throne and he was not ready. I let a small group of Jotunn, whom I was raised to believe were monsters, into the Weapons Vault to interrupt the ceremony.”

  
“We’re not allowed in there, Blue,” Daryn whispered, her small hand reaching out to hold his fingers gently. “Daddy says that it’s dangerous.”

  
Loki smiled. “It is, Darling. You should not go in there alone until you’re older.”

  
“Shhhhhh, Daryn. I want to hear more of the story.” Torsten squirmed in his father’s lap, eager to learn more about his blue uncle.

  
“Alright, alright, my Prince. I shall continue,” the Advisor chuckled. “That little scheme of mine led to a rather poorly timed trip to Jotunnheim, where Thor nearly started a war and I learned of my true nature, the transformative seidr placed on me as a babe fell away when one of the Jotunn warriors touched me. When your father was sent to Midgard as punishment, finding your mother in the process, your grandfather became ill and I was left to rule Asgard. I did many things that I am not proud of and I was punished severely, your Grandfather’s seidr left my body and my own seidr was contained. I was forced to live in a prison on Midgard in my true form - this form. It was only then that the horns you are so fond of made themselves known. It was about four or five months into my imprisonment, after the claws and feet and before the teeth and voice. They were the most painful of my transitions, putting me out of commission for nearly three months during which all there was was pain, nothing else. That is why I have them, there was no chance for me to remove them. And here they shall stay, for the rest of my life.”

  
He smiled morosely, his niece and nephew now privy to a glossed-over his subject past. Fingers squeezed his fiercely. “I love you, Blue,” the little girl whispered, as if she were sharing a secret with him. Another pair of arms wrapped around his Rings.

  
“Me too,” the heir murmured. “You’re like our Mommy, even though I know your not. But you are.”

  
The Jotunn smiled, “I guess I am.” He shot a loving glance at Thor, who smiled back at him. He raised his eyebrows, questioning, his younger brother giving a small nod.

  
“Daryn, Tory. Your uncle and I have something that we need to tell you,” he murmured. The kids, not letting go of the ridged arm they had held captive, turned to face their father’s face. “Loki and I, as you now know, we are not related as we once thought. We love each other very much and so we are going to get married and be your Daddy and...um...” He looked at the blue man.

  
“Blue,” Loki whispered, smiling. “Or Father, or Dad. Not Mother or Mum. I refuse to be called the same name was Jane, your true mother. She deserves that title.”  
“So Daddy and Blue it shall be.” Thor smiled before his warm eyes fell to his children’s beaming faces. “It may seem that this might not be the case, but we promise that we shall be wed and we will be a proper family.”

  
“Yes,” Loki chimed in, his free hand grasping the larger warmer one that sat in the blonde god’s lap. “Albeit, one with two fathers, one of which is blue, and three _perfect_ children.” The two men gathered those precious gifts to themselves in a warm embrace. A faint yip coming from Thor’s wide lap. “And a dragon turned dog. How could I forget?”

  
The family laughed, winding their arms more tightly together, finding happiness in their shared love for one another.


	5. Chapter 5

**Great Hall, Asgard**

  
Aiko sighed, leaning into the cool arms of the man she now knew was her life-mate. Ren rested his chin on the top of her head, so very like her father, the action holding her close to his heart, audible through his thin white tunic. Her blue eyes scanned the room as she whirled in the arms of the half-Jotunn, searching for her father. He had vanished about an hour previous, excusing himself from dinner claiming that he would put a damper on her Name Day party. After he had exited the room, the conversation picked up, becoming louder and more animated, which ticked Aiko off royally.

  
As she spun, she spotted him, now a her, looking breath-taking. That afternoon was spent father-daughter bonding over clothes. Piles littered her massive bed as the two of them searched for the two perfect gowns. Tonight was a big night for both of them, when they would start on their paths to happiness in the arms of the men who loved them the most. Loki had quickly settled on a gown of modest yet stunning cut for his daughter. The teenager had initially rolled her eyes at the three-quarter sleeve champagne and black lace confection with the tulle bottom and the boat neckline but had put in on anyway. When she faced herself in the bathroom mirror, she had to admit that her father was right - the gown looked elegant and sophisticated, the black ribbon cinching her waist and making it appear to be extremely small. Her breasts, not overly large, were flattered as was her hourglass figure. The Jotunn knew how to dress her better than she did herself. She had opened the door to his beaming blue face, his eyes shining beneath raised eyebrows that were arched with a mischievous ‘I told you so.’

  
His dress proved to be harder to settle on. The All-Father was exceedingly picky and insistent that if he was going to wear a female form, he was going to WEAR a female form. Unfortunately for them, they were limited to Aiko’s closet as no one outside of the royal family was to know about Loki’s little gender-bending escapade. Aiko was worried that he wouldn’t fit into any of her gowns - he was a bit more voluptuous than she was, but he insisted that he would. The pair, having pulled nearly everything from the closet found what they were looking for buried in the back. The princess had never worn the gown, deeming it too dangerous for her klutzy feet to handle. Loki had deemed it inappropriate for his only child because of the sky-high slit up the front of the skirt. For his seductive purposes, however, it was perfect.

  
Aiko, the memory fading as she stared, open mouthed at the rare beauty at the back of the hall, was glad that she had kept the dress. The gown was emerald by chance, though the Jotunn deemed it luck, and was strapless. The top was a wrapped and layered sheath, embracing every aspect of every curve and had gold stitching over the left bosom in an intricate floral design that faded into a shear gold chiffon V in her father’s cleavage, deceivingly modest. Once the column of tight fabric passed the top of his impossibly smooth, pale, long thighs, the dress dropped to the floor in a flowing column of chiffon, dragging behind the ‘mystery woman’ in a small train. She looked a bit embarrassed, out of place in the Great Hall of Asgard. Her ebony hair was pulled into a knot at the base of her neck while her enormous green eyes were highlighted by subtle lips and brilliant gold shadow on her lids.

  
Aiko laughed. Her father was not kidding when he said he wanted everyone’s attention on him. He was not joking when he had told her that he wanted the men of Asgard to be jealous of their King. He wanted the entire realm to fall in love with him in this form, to love the idea of a woman who was strong and beautiful, who could rule the realms with Thor, so that he could pull the rug out from beneath them at the wedding. He was most certainly enjoying himself way too much.

  
“Who is that?” Ren asked, curious, but to his credit, indifferent. Aiko snuggled closer, noticing how the boy who held her, squeezed her tighter and continued to look into her eyes, not desperately searching for the glances of an unknown woman in emerald.

  
“I believe that that is the Lady Oriana. She is recently arrived in the city from the edge of the realm. She is here to petition the King and my father for more forces and resources for the villagers who are being attacked by the brigands.” She decided to tempt Fate and tease her life-mate. “Why, Ren? Do you fancy her?”

  
The man’s fascinating copper eyes found her face as he stepped back. He searched her face earnestly, not once removing his gaze, so loving and adoring from her features. “I could never look at another the way I look at you, Aiko. You are perfection and every other woman is merely pretty in comparison.”

  
Aiko smiled, a blush flooding her cheeks. “Do you remember the conversation we had nearly six years ago?”

  
The half-Jotunn’s brow furrowed. “How could I forget?” he whispered seriously, all joking forgotten.

 

“Well,” Aiko began, taking a deep breath. “I would like to have that conversation again. Tonight, if possible.”

  
Ren’s eyes widened and a smile flew across his features. “Of course, Milady. Anything you could want.” Gently, the teenager led her life-mate from the floor and towards the balcony where they could talk privately.  
_____________________________________

  
Loki had never felt so desired in all his long life. It was a strange feeling, to be ogled by the masses in a lustful way instead of in hatred, mistrust, disgust, or, worst of all, pity. His illusion was holding well, the gown clinging tightly to his curvy figure while showing off his legs and arms. He had been nervous at first with the styling as he had had to do it himself, but, judging from the lustful stares of the men and the glares of jealousy from the women, he had done just fine for himself.

  
Ignoring the slight wobble of the gold high heels he had forced on to his feet, he strode forward through the crowd, searching for the only man that mattered to him. The masses parted as he passed, awed by the raven-haired beauty, causing Loki to smirk slightly. Oh, if they only knew! And they would, in due time.

  
His emerald eyes flicked to Thor’s blue pair about halfway across the dance floor. The King had been entertaining a fair blonde woman, centuries his younger, with a round face and wide set brown eyes. His heart felt a small pang of jealousy, though it did not last long. The blonde god, as if drawn to the disguised Jotunn by an invisible magnetic force, excused himself from his dance partner and walked to the exotic beauty as if in a trance.

  
The taller man smiled like a buffoon as he bowed before the woman he loved, causing Loki to blush fiercely, curtsying gracefully in return. Murmuring began to erupt among the throng. The King had bowed to this stranger, instead of the stranger submitting to the King. The only two beings that were ranked higher than the King of Asgard were the All-Father and All-Mother, and that woman was neither. Thor must be taken with her to award her such an honor.

  
Ignoring the hushed whispers, the King of the gods gently raise the slim hand to his lips, caressing it lightly, turning the woman’s high cheek bones a deep shade of scarlet. “My King,” she said softly, her light, flutey voice carrying through the hall, regardless of the low volume. “You have honored me highly with your attentions. I am but a lowly lady of the outer reaches of Asgard. I do not deserve your affections when so many more worthy women wait for their turn as your dance partner.”

  
“My Lady Oriana,” Thor intoned in an equally hushed voice, “You are more than deserving of my time, attention, and affections. May I have this dance?”

  
Loki bobbled into a small curtsy, his head bowed slightly. “It would be such an honor, My King.”  
____________________________

  
“Ahh,” the Jotunn groaned, his horns slowly elongating out of his brow, the rings catching on the bone of his frontal lobe. The evening, no matter how uncomfortable it had been for him, enveloped in the small form of the woman, had been wonderful. Thor had never let him out of his sight and they had danced for hours until Loki thought his feet would fall off from shear exhaustion and acute pain from the stiletto heels. By the stroke of one, he had excused himself and made his exit, unable to resist the pounding of his head, nor the closeness of Thor for much longer. That, and he was curious to find out how his daughter’s evening had gone. Now that she understood the bond that had formed between herself and Ren, she had vowed that she would ask to take the next step, from friendship to dating, this evening. While the results were relatively obvious, he wanted to be sure to the first to congratulate her on finding such a wonderful man to spend her life with.

  
He slipped into the tub, allowing the water to ease his crapped muscles in his feet and, surprisingly, lower back. He wiggled his toes, complete with ebony claws and the biggest toe hooked into a half circle, with a sigh before scrubbing his face feverishly. His rough callouses and soap made quick work of the make-up that was turning his face a strange pale shade, blue peeking through the blush, with pinked lips and bronzed lids. The amount of make-up women wore and the amount of time they took to plaster it on their already beautiful faces was rather ridiculous. He understood the thought behind the process, the enhancement of certain features to down play others, all to attract a suitor or to feel better about themselves or simply because they liked it, but he found it rather thankless. He chuckled as the paints ran off the ridges on his face, no amount of make-up would be able to hide his features in this form, the ridges would just look more like scarring and nothing would hide his eyes. And Thor didn’t seem to mind that he was hideous, so what was the point? If he could find love with a handsome man, a great warrior and leader, then any woman, all of whom was so much more attractive than himself, could do the same.

 

“Blue?” Aiko’s bubbly voice sounded from the bedroom. “Blue, are you here?”

 

“Where else would I be, my Child of Love?” he called back, his gravelly voice reverberating around the tiled bathing chamber. He heard the door open behind him and he gathered the bubbles about his body, shielding it from his daughter’s sight. It wasn’t anything that she hadn’t seen before but he was sure it was something that neither of them particularly wished to relive. He turned his head, his horns banging against a golden nozzle with a melodic clang.

  
“Ah!” the Jotunn hissed, his hands reaching up to grip the base of each protrusion. “Funny how easy it was to forget about them when they’re gone for a couple of hours.” He chuckled at the absurdity of it all as he looked up at his child.

  
She looked so lovely, her cheeks flushed with happiness and from the exertion of her dancing. Her hair had tumbled down out of her elaborate up-do and the brilliance of her blue eyes could put the stars to shame. She was absolutely beaming, bringing the light with her into the bathing chamber.

  
“Wow,” Loki breathed. “You look so beautiful, Aiko.”

  
Her smile grew wider. “Not as beautiful as you, Blue! You’re all anyone was talking about, even long after you’d left! Everyone wanted to know who you were, where you came from, if the King was courting you. I’d say that your plan is off to a rousing, successful start!”

  
The Jotunn snorted. “How unobservant they truly are.” He shook his head sarcastically before patting the towel beside the tub. “But, tell me, my Child of Love, how was your evening with a certain young man?”

  
The flush in her cheeks deepened to a scarlet that would put his eyes to shame. She gathered her skirts up around her knees and sat on the fluffy towel, her bare legs dangling into the tubs cool contents. “It was magical. I-I don’t know how to describe the feeling. I feel....”

  
“Alive,” the All-Father breathed. “The word you’re looking for is alive. Like your life has begun.” He gently placed a sudsy hand on her bare knee which she quickly covered with her own.

  
“Yes. Alive. Most definitely. Though, we’ve just taken the next step. It’ll be a while before, well, before we ‘put a ring on it,’ as it were. I think Asgard can only have one realm-shattering wedding once every few years.”

  
“And why should it not be yours?” Loki cocked an eyebrow at his child. “The Norns know that poor boy has waited long enough.”

  
Aiko smiled, the left side of her mouth twitching. “And he can wait a bit longer. Someone else deserves his own happy ending.” She beamed, squeezing his clawed hand the rested on her knee. “You have been putting others before yourself for as long as I have known you, Blue. Do this for yourself. For once, give yourself permission to be happy.”  
_______________________________________

  
“ _Blue?_ ” The Jotunn sleepily opened a single scarlet eye as a small, warm hand touched his cool cheek. A head of mussed, curly black hair accompanied by a pair of wide, emerald eyes embedded in a frightened, pale face.

  
Groggily, the blue man asked, “Torsten? Is everything alright?”

  
The boy took a shuddering breath before he said in a small voice, “Can I sleep with you?”

  
“Of course, Dear One,” he murmured, sliding over to make space. The little figure scrambled into the nest, sliding under the sheets and furs and curling up next to the cool, bare chest of the Jotunn. “Please, Torsten, tell me what is keeping you awake.”

  
The heir snuggled closer, wrapping his short arms as far around the slim Frost Giant as possible. “Monsters, Blue,” he whimpered. “Every time I close my eyes, they’re there, grabbing at me with their cold hands and their sharp nails and the fog. Blue, the fog.” He sniffled.

  
Loki’s arms drew the sheets and the little boy closer to his chest, wrapping his arms around the trembling child. “Oh, Torsten, darling. They sound like scary monsters, but do not worry. I am a scary monster, too, and I will frighten them away, keep you safe.” He pressed a loving kiss to the top of the dark head. “You can sleep now, my darling. Go to sleep and I will keep watch.”

 

Gradually, the heir’s breathing became less erratic and grew deeper as he slipped further into a state of dreamless sleep. Purring contentedly, he nuzzled the sleeping form swaddled against his icy chest and returned to his own dreamings.

 

A short while later, he was woken again, roused by a gentle grasp of a tiny hand on his arching horn. “ _Blue?_ ”

  
He inhaled deeply, careful so as to not wake his daughter or his nephew. “Daryn? Are you having nightmares too, my Princess?”

  
Her little blonde head, as curly as her brother’s, nodded timidly.

 

The Jotunn smiled sleepily. “Well then, come on up.” Gently, he turned onto his back, careful not to squash the lightly snoring Torsten, allowing the little girl to snuggle between him and Aiko. “Have no fear, Milady. I shall keep the monsters at bay.” Placing a kiss on the top of her head, he wrapped her tightly in a blanket and pulled both of his brother’s children into his sides, one under each arm. Purring lightly, both he and the tiny girl, drifted off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Thor woke late in the morning, still exhausted from the previous evening, the sun streaming across his face. Groaning, he rolled away from the light, clutching a pillow close to his chest, dreaming that it was Loki, all wiry muscle, sandpaper azure skin, and cool comfort. He had been so beautiful the previous evening, an aura seemed to have been floating around him - her. Either way, the creature he had danced with for hours on end changed him in ways he had never deemed imaginable. He had felt complete, the hole in chest left gaping and raw from Jane, had been plugged and, while he still felt Jane’s presence, it was no longer a ghost filled with longing and heartbreak. His wife, after his brother had left her side with his promise to care for her family, had made him make his own promise.

  
_“Thor.” Her voice was so weak, it barely was louder than a rasped whisper._

  
_“Jane, my Love.” He kissed her feverish brow and held her tighter, cursing his brother under his breath. The Jotunn had denied the woman he loved, the Queen of his heart and his realm, a new life, rebirth. And he was desperately clutching this perfect woman to his chest as she slipped away from him._

  
_“Thor, promise me...”_

  
_“Anything, Jane. Anything.” Tears had begun to flow down his face, hot and fierce. One of her slender hands twitched, not strong enough to wipe the liquid from her husband’s face._

  
_“P-promise m-me that yuh-you will b-be open to f-finding l-love again, Th-Thor,” she stammered, whispering lightly. “Please, love again.”_

  
_“I-” He swallowed, not wanting to make that promise. He did, though, just as she had asked, while silently vowing to never fulfill it. **No one** would replace Jane._

  
And Loki hadn’t, he had built his own little place for himself in the King’s heart where he was healing him. Teaching him to love again. It was so simple. The last five years had been trying, to say the least. The twins were growing rapidly, quickly becoming little people instead of little babies that only cried and pooped. His brother had been there, every minute of every day, waking at odd hours of the night for feedings and diaper changes and lullabies. He had practically raised the little ones as Thor had slumped into depression. And then he had pulled the King out of darkness, sitting beside him for hours on end in the deepest part of the night, purring and holding his hand. The Jotunn, so bent on maintaining his own lack of humanity, had saved him. Now, not only was he _living, really living_, since Jane had passed, he had found love in the most unlikely people. Thor smiled and stretched, drawn to the man just as he had been the woman the previous evening. He was certain that the manifested magnetism was part of the life-mate bond, his own way of experiencing it, since he was not Jotunn and did not have the pleasure of Loki’s lingering wintery scent following him everywhere.

  
He eased himself out of bed, relinquishing the pillow, and grabbed his dressing gown. His sleeping habits had not changed, and, while all he wanted to do was crawl into the nest down the hall and grasp the blue man to his muscled expanse, he did not want to scare the Jotunn away. That and Aiko had not returned to her own bed since she had first crawled into his brother’s.

  
Schlepping on a pair of sleeping trunks, the King made his way through his empty chambers, littered in a manner similar to his old bachelor quarters with furs and trophies hanging on the walls and weapons positioned on the furniture. After the first night Loki had come to him in the dark, the Jotunn had slowly but surely removed Jane’s research from their sitting room, her clothing from their shared closet, and everything except a few sentimental trinkets from their suite. Through the calculated elimination of the Midgardian woman’s things, the God of Thunder was able to slowly move forward with his life.

  
The hall beyond was empty, silent. A strange occurrence, as the children would have been long up by now. If they had troubles sleeping, which, for some reason or other had been increased of late, they came to him in the night, crawling into his bed without waking him from his deep sleep.

  
Pausing in front of the massive black walnut doors, the god raised a hand to knock only to stop. Something was making noise beyond, faint but constant. Gently, he pushed a door open on well-oiled hinges. “Loki?”

  
His question was greeted by a familiar rumble, comforting and rich, coming from the bed chamber, the door slightly ajar. Quickly, Thor wound his way through the stacks of books and potion ingredients that littered the floor and chairs and end tables and peered into the crack in the door. The Jotunn’s horns, regal and elegant, curved over the lip of the nest and a second head of dark hair could be seen from the King’s vantage point - Aiko. Silently, he slipped into the room, looking deeper into the bowl-shaped bed. There, wrapped in thick blankets and tucked under his brother’s leanly muscled arms, lay his children, sleeping contentedly. Smiling at the image of his family, perfect and whole, the King slipped back out the door and retrieved Aiko’s camera from her art studio before returning to the other room.

  
The click of the camera caused the blue man to flinch, and he woke with a soft inhale, his purr stuttering to a soft cadence. His ruby eyes opened lazily, blinking in the filtered sun light, causing Thor’s smile to take on an endearing quality.

  
“Good Morning, my Moon,” the King of Asgard whispered, bending down to kiss his life-mate’s Horns, feeling the man shiver under the stimulation. “I see you’ve acquired some new bed mates.”

  
Loki smiled up at the blonde man, a gleam of love in his scarlet orbs. He pulled the twins closer into his Wings, their curly heads resting on his Heart, with a deep rumble. As he looked at the two precious bundles of joy tucked under his arms, he murmured, “The monsters came out of the fog and sent them to me - a monster to scare away the nightmares.”

  
“You are not a monster, Loki,” Thor whispered tenderly. “Why do you insist on labeling yourself as one?”

  
The Jotunn didn’t move, keeping his focus on the twins who had cuddled even closer into his chest. He sighed, his claws beginning to detangle to black and gold messes of hair. “Because,” he muttered. “It’s true. It’s true. I am a monster among gods here, Thor, and a Jotunn of an unrefined nature and inclinations among my own people because of the horns your children are so fond of.”

  
“Well, it seems as if our realms cannot see true, regal beauty because that is all I see, no matter the form you take.” The King’s lips met the thin blue lips of the man lying below him.

  
“Well, I always thought that Odin had dropped you as a child.” The blue lips, so cool and perfect, lifted to reveal a fang-filled smile, followed by a soft chuckle.

  
“If that is the case, Brother, then I am very glad that he did.” He stole another chaste kiss.

  
“I am too,” the other man breathed. “I am too.”  
________________________________

  
The Jotunn sat beside the King, his hand grasped in Thor’s much warmer, beefier hand under the table, his calloused thumb running over the smooth skin beneath in a steady caress. The council was being difficult, as usual. The Lady Oriana had caused quite a ruckus the prior evening and the council members were insistent on having her make an appearance.

  
“She has presented her case to me, Council Members. Is that not enough?” Thor thundered down the long table and resonated around the room. “She is distressed. Her people are dying and starving. Can you blame her for wanting to return there?”

  
“WELL,” a crotchety lord from the southern tier of Asgard, “Is she still here?”

  
“N-” Thor began.

  
“Yes,” Loki said, squeezing his life-mate’s hand firmly. “Shall I get her for you?”

  
Thor cocked an eyebrow at the blue man, who raised an eyebrow back, releasing his grip.

  
The King cleared his throat. “Yes, Advisor. Please retrieve the Lady Oriana.”

  
The blue man stood, bowing first to the council and then to his King before hastily clicking out of the room. He hastily retreated to his daughters rooms, sprinting around her door jam and entering her studio.

  
Frightened by his sudden arrival into her little haven of oil paints and charcoal, Aiko dropped her paint brush, splattering orange paint onto the carpet. “BLUE!?” she shrieked.

  
“Sorry, my Child of Love, but we are having a bit of an emergency,” he panted, pulling his long hair out of it’s typical braided fauxhawk.

  
Aiko was frantically blotting the carpet, making little headway against the orange stains. “What sort of emergency?” Her voice was slightly flustered.

  
Sighing, Loki swiped his hand through the air, eliminating the spill. “I need your help. Lady Oriana has been requested in the council meeting, and so, she must make an appearance.”

  
“Wait!” the teenager said. “Won’t they notice that you’re not there? They can’t be stupid enough to not put two and two together. You’d be found out!”

  
The Jotunn chuckled lightly before enacting a small spell, one that he had utilized so many times in that past. Quickly, an exact double of his current self appeared, causing his daughter to gasp. “How did you do that?”

  
His hair now loose and tumbling down his back, Loki grinned mischievously and wiggled his fingers. “ _Magic_.” The double bowed deeply. The really All-Father cleared his throat, appreciative of his daughter’s amazement but worried about more important things than the creation of a perfect, functioning double. “I am going to need your help finding a dress. I’ll be in the bathroom. Ignore the sounds, the pain is momentary and you do not need to be distressed again by my shifting form.” He smiled sadly before retreating through his daughter’s unused bed chamber and into her bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him.

  
As soon as the door closed, he started the shift, his eyes watching as the ridges receded and the blue was leeched from his softening skin. The pain of retraction started shortly after, causing him to moan and hiss, his horns’ spiraled keratin catching on his skull and his claws withdrawing as new nails sprouted.

  
With a soft, high-pitched sigh, the shifting stopped. Loki raised his head to find himself staring into a pair of large, emerald eyes under thick lashes and tousled ebony locks. Pulling the hair over his newly blossomed bosom, he slowly opened the solid oaken door of the bathroom to find a pile of simple, yet elegant shift dresses, their soft draping hanging over the edge of the bed. With no time to be picky, the Jotunn picked up the closest dress, the same azure color as his true skin, and quickly pulled it over his head, wrapping the folds about his hourglass figure, cinching his waist.

  
“You are so beautiful,” a small, astonished voice gasped behind him. He spun, the skirt twirling playfully, a smile gracing his new lips. He reached his slim hand with it’s tapered fingers that were really not so different from his own, and laid it on his daughter’s cheek. It was so peculiar, to be looking her in the eye, to be on the same height level as someone who was typically so much shorter than himself.

  
As his gaze drank in his perfect child, he breathed, “Not as beautiful as you, my Child of Love. But, now I must go and present my case to the council. We will talk later.” He kissed her on the cheek, beaming.

  
With that, he sprinted from the room as fast as his shortened legs could carry him, his double trailing behind. It was only when he was halfway to the meeting chamber that he realized that he wasn’t wearing any shoes. Praying that the men and women of Asgard and the Nine wouldn’t notice, he stopped outside the door and smoothed the rich blue fabric before his double gestured him into the room.

  
“My King,” he curtsied deeply, honoring his life-mate with a small smile. Slowly, holding his head high so that the light caught all of the angles present there, he turned to face the rest of the council, many of whom were standing. The thought that he was being showed respect eagerly that was generally given only grudgingly was delightful. He could not wait until these worshippers of his finer form realized what they were doing.

  
“Council members.” He curtsied again, quickly and with little reverence. “My Lord, Prince Loki, told me that you have need of me. I apologize for my attire. I was packing for my return journey home and was not expecting a royal audience. Not after His Royal Majesty, King Thor, All-Father of the Nine, decreed that a month’s worth of provisions and a battalion of soldiers would travel westward to the edge of the world with me. Are not his decrees law?” He paused, allowing the message that they held no real power sink in before changing his confused expression to one of apologetic humility.

  
“I am so sorry. I do not know of what I speak. The matters of ruling a realm are rather beyond me and my meager experience of watching my father rule a small duchy. He always told me that my mouth was my least attractive feature. I apologize.” The disguised Jotunn hung his head, trying to hide his amused smile as it tugged at his lips. His mouth was his one true talent - _Silvertongue_.

  
Speaking through his double, who pulled out his chair, he said, “My Lady. Would you please sit down? There is no need for someone of your status to stand among us like some common woman.”

  
Blushing slightly as murmurs of agreement swept the room, he whispered a small, “Thank you, My Lord” and assumed his regular seat without a fuss.

  
“Now, good council members, I am sure that you are aware of the brigands that have been terrorizing the outskirts, not only of Asgard, but of a majority of the Nine Realms. My people have been absolutely devastated. Our fields destroyed with little hope or time for replanting most of our usual crops. Our goods and valuables stolen. Our sons, husbands, brothers murdered. The brigands have brought about an act of war. Not only that, but I would guess that the fog they seem to appear with is not truly fog, but a cloaking agent of some sort built of powerful seidr. My father’s sorcerer is old and weak, as is my father’s standing army. We stand no chance, and thus, I was sent here to relay this information to my King, in hopes that something can be done to save my people.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

  
The Lady Oriana began to make appearances regularly throughout the realm. She was frequently seen with the King, hanging on his arm as he strolled through the marketplace, sampling the goods the city had to offer. She attended the hunt for the infamous white stag of the Royal Forest and was rumored to have brought the glorious, rare beast herself with a well-aimed arrow. She accompanied the King on a brief trip to the outskirts of the realm, showing the monarch the devastation inflicted by the brigands first hand and she helped with the rebuilding efforts publicly, while studying the residue left by the seidr produced fog covertly. The beautiful woman spent hours with her suitor moving about the castle grounds: the All-Mother’s private gardens, the stables where she had made friends with Sleipnir, and even the training yards on occasion, impressing the assembled warriors with her skill with a spear. The woman herself found it to be ironic, as her skills with various weaponry had never changed, only the form in which she displayed them.

  
The icing on the cake occurred in August, two months into the courtship, when the Lady Oriana was first spotted with the royal children on an outing through the town with the King, Princess Aiko, and the All-Mother. Notably absent was the unwanted Jotunn, not that the public minded. The general consensus was that he was the only blind spot of the royal family, good for nothing and an outcast in their society. Monsters belonged with monsters, especially one that belonged to the royal line. Yes, he had his uses, the ability to carry young being the most important and really only significant one, as evidenced in the family that traversed the golden streets.

  
The King was beaming jovially, pointing to the sights that surrounded the central square. Hanging off of his arm, glowing with absolute adoration, was the raven-haired beauty from the farthest reaches of the realm. The twins, curly haired opposites, ran through the square, pulling their older cousin along behind them, giggling hysterically as the crowd parted around them. The All-Mother, never considered to be a reserved woman, had been rather sullen in public ever since the passing of her husband. She was rarely seen outside of the palace, so the fact that she was walking with her eldest son and the woman in his life through the gold-paved square, was very rare indeed. Miraculously, she was overjoyed, smiling and laughing at the antics of her grandchildren.

  
Rumors began to swirl: _Thor was going to propose on the day that commemorated the birth of his twins. Oriana was already pregnant, carrying another set of twins. Frigga was planning on bequeathing her position as All-Mother to the younger goddess and was looking forward to many more grandchildren. Thor had sentenced his brother, who had not really been seen for long stretches at public gatherings for months, to life-long imprisonment, only parading him out for special occasions. The Jotunn was jealous of his brother’s happiness and had left for the wilds of Jotunnheim._

  
Not paying attention to any of the rumors, Thor and Loki as Oriana, strolled down the length of the Bifrost, hand in hand, talking about anything and everything, the sunset sky filled with stars winked down at them. Halfway down the Rainbow Bridge, Loki stopped and let the glamor fall from his form, the Aesir gown falling loosely about his male form and ending just below his knee. A swift murmur changed the clothing into a pair of loose trousers and a flowing tunic.

  
“How are you, Loki?” Thor asked kindly, picking up the slender, cool hand of the other man.

 

“Much better,” the Jotunn smiled, a hand skimming over an arched horn. “Thank you for asking.”

  
Thor began to walk again, leading his brother along the multicolored highway towards Heimdall’s Observatory. The two enjoyed their closeness, strolling along in an amicable silence.

  
The King inhaled through his nose before asking, “Do you know what today’s date is?”

  
The blue man’s brow furrowed. “Ah...September 1? The month of your children’s birth.”

  
“Yes, but that is not why this date is important. Not to me,” Thor said softly. “This was the day that I thought I had lost you, the day you Fell. Thirty years ago today, my life ended. Or so I had thought.”

  
Loki had stopped, standing in the doorway of the Gatekeeper’s lair. The god was no where to be seen. “Why are you saying this?” he asked, his voice tiny, fearful.

  
“Come, Brother.” Thor tugged the other man’s hand as he walked around the central dais and to the window that looked out over the Nine. “September 1 was the day that my world ended. You were gone and with you, the laughter and joy of the Realm. There was no feasting, no joy, no festivities of any kind during your absence. When I found you on Midgard, the shadow of that monster over you and your maniacal plan, my heart leapt in my chest at the knowledge of your survival. I could barely drag you before my father but my realm comes first, and I did what I was bound to do by duty. To watch you vanish again was the same as losing you to the Void.” The King’s brilliant blue eyes met the confused rubies before him and smiled lovingly. “Did you get any of my storms? It began as Mother’s idea, something to help with your...uh...transition, but I decided to send them to you afterwards whenever I wished that you were here. My wedding, my coronation, when I lost my son.” He cleared his throat. “Norns, I am bad that this.” He ran a hand through his blonde hair nervously.

  
Loki, his brow still creased, replied, “The storms were perfect, Thor. They were always a rare treat. And were greatly appreciated every time.”

  
Thor smirked nervously, turning to look out at the stars. “I’m glad.” The two men took in the view, standing beside each other as they surveyed the Universe Tree. Slowly, the King took the Jotunn’s cool, ridged hand in his and slowly turned to face his life-mate, sinking to a knee.

  
“Thor, what are you doing?” Loki said warily, his eyes growing wide.

  
“I-I...uh...” The King of the Gods stuttered, his gaze dropping from the blue face that loomed above him, the blue face that meant so much to him and extended his other hand. In his rather beefy fingers, was clutched a thin band of pale gold, unadorned and simply beautiful. “Loki. I cannot imagine living without you. And I was hoping that you would do me the honor of being my wuh-husb-partn-life-muh-If you would do me the honor of being by my side for the rest of my existence?”

 

His striking scarlet eyes still wide, the All-Father sunk to his own knees, his hands reaching out to the blonde man and grasped them firmly. “Thor,” he murmured softly. “I am humbled that you have asked me, but you did not have to do this.”

  
The King’s eyebrows met in confusion. “Are...are you saying no?”

  
The Jotunn smiled lovingly. “No, no, Thor. I am saying yes. I am, in turn, going to ask you a question.” He took a deep breath, sinking to his knees. “Thor, my King, would you be my life-mate, forsaking my past and leading me to a brighter future?”

  
The blonde god shook his head in disbelief. “Yes, yes of course. I thought that that was already established.”

  
“Yes, well,” the blue man stood, hefting the other man to his feet. “Life-mates do not kneel to one another. One does not propose marriage without the other proposing as well. That is how it is done, my dear, beloved, oaf of a brother.”

  
“You’re impossible,” the King muttered before meeting the thin blue lips in a fierce kiss, which quickly escalated, tongues, cool and hot, entangling in the promise of more. Loki’s gums throbbed in time with his racing heart and ragged breath. Tapping into his seidr, he teleported himself and his life-mate, limbs and tongues entangled, to his chambers, his hands frantically scrambling over the broader man’s muscular back.

  
“EW!” A shrill voice exclaimed, instantly breaking the two men apart, their hands dropping not so discreetly over their groins, masking body parts that were rather excited with the way that things were headed.

  
“Daryn! Torsten!” Loki exclaimed as he took in the sight before him. His niece and nephew sat in his nest, a book of Jotunn fairytales on Daryn’s lap. “What are you doing here?”

  
“Blue,” the little princess began matter-of-factly, “It’s after dinner, so it’s story time. You promised you’d read to Tory and I tonight.”

  
“OH! Norns! My dears, I forgot.” Slowly and carefully, the Jotunn crawled into his bed, sending his life-mate an apologetic glance before refocusing on the children. “Now, what shall we read today?”  
_________________________________

  
The ring was perfect. That much was true. While Loki refused to wear it as himself, partially because it would give his plans away if anyone made connections, and partially because he had nothing that was marking Thor as his, he adored it’s beauty. But the simple, slim band looked perfect on his elegant, pale, female hand and Asgard was buzzing. No official announcement had been made, but, at the same time, with the tongues wagging as they did, there was truly no need. Yet, it would be announced this evening at the twin’s Name Day feast. The little ones had already given the okay and promised not to reveal that the woman was, in fact, the man that had given them life.

  
Loki sighed, applying ruby paint, not unlike his ‘true’ eye color, to his full lips. Aiko had found him a more reserved gown for the evening. It was navy, with a flowery lace sleeve that fell into a plunging back. The sweetheart neckline was pulled in to a cinched waist which fell in drapes to the floor. The back, below the plunged back, draped over a small bustle and a short train. Aiko had styled his hair into a low knot at the base of his skull, loose tendrils spiraling by his face, highlighting his cheekbones. He smiled, marveling at the road that had brought him to this moment, his engagement to the man that had been his brother for over a thousand years. A man that was his perfect other half, and not just because of his biological urges but because of everything he knew about the man. Thor was far from perfect, Loki knew. He, more than anyone else, understood that. However, the King of Asgard and of his heart, was much closer to perfection than he was, despite the public opinion of his female alter ego.  
______________________________________

  
Standing beside Thor, his double dismissed shortly after dinner to preserve his energy and seidr, his slim hand held gently in the much larger hand of the other man, he felt whole. He felt truly loved for being himself, even if he was a rather peculiar anomaly. The crowd was cheering him, HIM, for once, blessing his coming marriage. He couldn’t resist laughing, the strange tinkling version of his usually throaty chuckle, throwing his head back in sheer happiness and the promise of the surprise to come.

  
He spotted Aiko, twirling gracefully in the arms of her life-mate, beaming widely. She was so beautiful and radiant, and so in love. He was so glad that she had found a man that would love her as much as he did. She deserved happiness after her horrible childhood because she was so much better than her past. _Just like me_ , the Jotunn reminded himself as he was led to the dance floor in the arms of the King of Asgard, his life-mate, his perfect other half.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**The Greedy Dwarf Pub - Asgard**

  
The King reclined on the wooden bench, very much regretting going out with the Warriors Three and Lady Sif for drinks that evening. The announcement of his engagement had swept through the realms and the populace was exceedingly congratulatory, with random pub-goers approaching their private booth every few minutes to wish him and the stunning Oriana their best. Graciously, he thanked each and every one of them, telling them that he would pass their well-wishes onto the beautiful lady herself once she returned from the outer reaches of the realm, where she was visiting her father.

  
Loki had not joined him in his celebrations with their friends tonight, though Thor desperately wished that he had, knowing that the Jotunn would have been snickering uncontrollably at the thought of the people who barely tolerated him congratulating him on his upcoming nuptials. Instead, the All-Father was taking a quick trip to Jotunnheim. Their wedding would occur during the thickest part of the planet’s winter, and his brother would be unable to attend. He knew that Helblindi had known of the life-mate bond before his lover had told him, and thus, the other king needed to know that everything was going to work out in the end, with the treaty between Asgard and Jotunnheim further strengthened through a royal marriage. There would be celebrations in Jotunnheim tonight.

  
A large, lathery-headed tankard was slammed before him by Volstagg. “Still thinking about your lady?” the fat man chuckled, his belly shaking in his mirth.

  
The King of Asgard smiled. “Yes, yes I am. It’s difficult to not think of her when she is away.” He knew that Loki would say the same, haunted by his scent, even when he was a world away.

  
A frustrated huff came from Sif’s general direction. “We are all happy for you, Thor. But don’t you think this is all happening a bit fast? You just met the woman in May and now, four months later, you’re engaged?! Shouldn’t you take this a bit slower, at least consider other options...” The dark-haired woman gave him a pointed look, shifting so that her usually concealed bosom popped out a bit more. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, revealing her long, pale neck.

  
“What are you saying Sif?” the King queried. “Are you saying that there would be someone better than Milady Oriana to be my Queen and Consort?”

  
The woman tilted her head, smiling. “Why, yes. I am.”

  
The Warriors Three stiffened, wary as their female companion continued. “I think that you should select someone who has leadership experience. Someone as equally loved by the people. Someone whom you have known for more than four months. Someone like me.”

  
Thor inhaled some of his beer, coughing into his tankard. “WHAT?!” he gasped, wiping his mouth and nose with a napkin. “ _You_ wish to be the next Queen of Asgard?” He snorted.

  
Sif’s brow knitted. “Is that wrong of me, Thor? We were close when we were younger. Inseparable. We are the perfect team on the battlefield, we support each other in the Council. It would be a good, reasonable match.”

  
“No.” The answer was short. He shook his blonde head as the woman across from him looked offended. “It could have been a match, at one time Sif. A long time ago. Before my failed coronation. I have changed. I am not that boy you followed into reckless battle against anyone I deemed unworthy. I am King now, the All-Father, and a father to two beautiful children. I cannot rush into things anymore, Sif, governed by my whims. And Oriana, she...she is exactly what I need, now and forever more. Four months is a short time, but I feel as if I have known her my whole life. She has led her people, she brought down the white stag, my children love her. She will be my Queen. No other.”

  
He set his half-finished beverage on the table and turned to the Warriors Three. “Thank you for the evening out, gentlemen. I need to return to my kids.” Pushing back swiftly from the table, he left, thoughts racing to Loki and his family, waiting for him in Bilskirnir.

  
**The All-Mother’s Chambers - Asgard**

  
“Mother, this is ridiculous!” Loki said exasperated. “After I reveal myself, we’re going to be going from the ceremony to the trial faster than you can say, ‘I do!’ No one is going to care where they are sitting at the reception!”

  
“Darling,” the All-Mother said tenderly, masking her own exasperation. “That might not happen. The people might just accept it!” The Jotunn rolled his ruby eyes, acknowledging the fact that his mother was a hopeless optimist. The goddess continued, “Either way, this is _your_ wedding. And Thor’s.”

  
“You are forgetting that Thor was already married, Mother. You got to help Jane plan that business the first time around,” Loki chuckled.

  
“But this is _your_ wedding. One that you never thought would happen and it is one that should be celebrated.” The woman was beaming excitedly as she sifted through color swatches for napkins. “How often does a mother see her sons married?”

 

“Um...never. And besides, if it wasn’t for the bigotry of the council, this wedding would not be occurring. It is unnecessary.”

  
“Unnecessary! LOKI!” The All-Mother gasped.

  
“I understand that you are the Goddess of Marriage, Mother, but the Jotunn do not believe in the institution of it. I am just embracing the culture of my people.” He smiled wickedly, knowing that his teasing was pushing the older woman’s buttons. His smile fell, the truth of the matter spilling from his lips. “But truly, the instinct, the animalistic _need_ , is made complete through the act of ritualistic marking during intercourse. It is permanent and lasting, no need for marriage. Your life-mate is your other half and you are bound together by Fate.”

  
He sighed slowly, letting the notion of being with Thor forever sink in. It was something that he was truly looking forward to, though he would never admit it to anyone. Of all the people in Asgard that he had longed for through his torture and imprisonment, it was Thor that he had wished could come to him in his exile. The thought of never being alone again in that world of physical and psychological torture was incredibly appealing. “So, shall we continue? The colors are emerald and navy, for obvious reasons, with the white gold silverware and the fine china plates you used for Jane and Thor’s nuptials. I do not care about the place settings because the only people who will care at all about partying after the big reveal are going to be our family and maybe Volstagg and Fandrall, all of whom are part of the wedding party, so...”

 

“I know you’re not thrilled about this Loki. I promise you, though, that I will stand by you, and Thor, through the trial and beyond that.” She placed her warm, soft hand on his ridged knee with a gentle pat.

  
He smiled, a hint of fang playing at his bottom lip. “Thank you. It means so much to me.”

 

She smiled at him, her grin growing. “Not to mention the fact that I am thrilled to be passing my gifts on to Thor.” She looked at her youngest child, biting her lower lip as she turned red in the face. Loki cocked an eyebrow, confused. Suddenly, a crazed laugh sprang from his lips, his rich ‘ehehehe’ ringing through the private sitting room of the All-Mother.

  
“Norns! Thor as _All-Mother!_ That’s more ridiculous than myself being set up as Queen!” He gasped for breath, gripping his heaving sides. Gulping air into his lungs, he wheezed, “Though Thor and I have decided to eliminate that title. I shall remain a Prince - as it should be. Though All-Mother, I don’t think there is anything we can do about that!” He rubbed his face, wiping the tears away from his cool cheeks before they froze.

  
“What’s so funny?” The laughter stopped, though the Jotunn continued to snicker under his breath. His life-mate was standing in the doorway, a broad smile on his face and his arms crossed over his well-muscled chest.

  
“Oh Darling,” Frigga sighed, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. “We were discussing your acquisition of a new title. As Loki is All-Father, upon your marriage, I shall be passing my title, gifts, and responsibilities on to you.”

  
The bulky blonde man’s blue eyes bugged out of his head and his arms dropped to his sides. “All-Mother?” he gulped like a fish out of water.   
“Why, yes, my King! What else?” Loki had begun to chuckle again, unable to contain his mirth.

  
“Oh...okay,” the King of Asgard breathed. “Anything for Loki.”

  
“What?” The Jotunn promptly stopped laughing and gave the other man a surprised look.

  
“Anything for you.” The blonde man entered the room and bent to the handsome face of his soon-to-be life-mate and gave him a passionate kiss that left the other man breathless.

  
“Thor,” the blue man moaned softly into the other man’s mouth. “I love you.”

  
The King broke off the kiss and held the Advisor’s angular face in his hands. “I love you, too, Loki.”

  
“Now, now, Boys. Save it for the Wedding Night,” Frigga scolded gently. “Apparently that is the only part that matters.”

  
Thor’s look of confused bewilderment and slightly mortified shock caused Loki to guffaw again, patting the larger man on his broad back tenderly. “You-you told our _Mother?!_ ” The blonde stammered, his round eyes meeting the dancing rubies seated beside him.   
_______________________________

  
The gown was white, making his pale skin seem almost luminescent. The color was certainly not what he would have chosen. While his current set of organs were truly virginal, despite having birthed two beings, there were certain other parts that were not. And besides, as a mass murderer and bringer of general havoc and chaos, it seemed inappropriate. Despite the purity of the color, the gown was perfect. Thor had not seen it, as was traditional, though the Jotunn knew that his life-mate would love it. It was a strapless ball gown with a bodice that was fitted and corseted, and covered in a beautiful lace that flowed into the tiered skirt. The skirt itself was a mixture of fabrics from chiffon to tulle with lace and ribbon mixed in. The train was long, befitting a royal wedding, and, in honor of his future husband ( _life-mate_ ), a thick navy blue ribbon was tied around his already tiny waist. Underneath the dress was his ceremonial loincloth, ready for when he lifted this glamor and replaced it with the form that had been his for over a thousand years. No matter how beautiful the gown was, he was not standing before the council wearing it while male. It was not going to happen.

  
“Blue?”

  
He tore his gaze away from his reflection in the mirror in his bathroom to find his daughter staring at him. She looked gorgeous in her navy gown, a floor-length empire waist with a heart-shaped keyhole back. She had chosen it herself, as Loki refused to help her dress. She was his only bridesmaid, his maid of honor, and she could chose her own dress, so long as it was navy. Her hair matched his, a loose braid beginning at the nape of the neck, allowing the shorter fly-aways to frame her heart-shaped face.

  
“You look ravishing, my Child of Love,” he smiled, turning around and opening his arms to his only child. “You shall break a lot of hearts this evening.”

  
The young woman entered his embrace with a sigh. “Not as many as you will.” She giggled softly, causing her father’s high-pitched ‘ehehehe’ to echo around the room. “The Realm will be so confused and so completely jealous of Thor, they will not know what to do with themselves.” She pulled back, smiling broadly at her father’s adopted face.

  
His emerald eyes were worried, nervous, and caused her smile to falter. “What’s wrong, Blue? You are marrying your life-mate. You should be overjoyed.” She beamed again, resting a hand on his smooth, blushing cheek.

  
“I am...so, so happy. I’m just worried. Did I make the right decision? What if something happens tonight that I did not plan for? I cannot leave him alone, nor you or the children for that matter. But what if I must?”

  
“Stop it!” Aiko said a bit forcefully. “You need to think about the present, not the future. No one is going to tear you away from Thor. As if any of us would allow it!” She chuckled and kissed his cheek. “Now come along. We have a wedding to attend.”  
__________________________________

  
Standing behind those solid gold doors, behind Aiko and the twins, both looking adorable in their wedding attire. Daryn wore a smaller version of his own gown, complete with navy sash while Torsten was wearing his first suit of armor, it’s silver inlay contrasting smartly with the emerald that the groom had chosen for his color. Loki smiled. He had originally chosen Thor’s scarlet but, with Thor choosing emerald and it being Christmas Eve, the Jotunn had decided against the holiday color scheme and changed to navy.

  
Slowly and silently, the massive doors glided open to reveal the immense grandeur of the main hall of Asgard. Somewhere, at the end, on the dais that held his throne, stood Thor in full regalia with his fake best man - a double of himself - and his groomsmen, Fandral, Volstagg, Hogun, and, to Loki’s displeasure, Sif. Beside him would be Frigga, the only person of high enough rank to preside over the marriage of a King and the All-Father, not that the crowd assembled realized that they were not embodied in the same person - at least, not yet.

  
Just as the twins began their march down the endless aisle, four figures materialized beside him. Two were wearing the same gowns as Aiko, the other two were wearing navy suits, complete with navy ties. His mouth open in shock and surprise, the god gasped, “How did you know?”

  
“Oh, please,” Natasha muttered, “As if Thor can keep a secret to save his life.”

  
“We thought that you should have just as many ‘maids’ as Thor had ‘men,’” Asha chimed in, giving her employer turned friend a quick hug.

  
“Yeah, it’s only fair.” Steve Rogers clapped the now shorter Loki on the shoulder.

  
The man who housed the Hulk smirked at the Jotunn. “Can I request that if this marriage proves fruitful, you get pregnant in this body? It’d make my life much easier.”

  
Loki chuckled, wishing for an instant that he had his fangs to flash. “And allow you to miss all of the fun that we had last time? Oh, I think not Doctor.”

  
Quickly pushing the four surprise bridesmaids into line and shooing Natasha down the aisle first, Aiko whispered, “Wedding now, reunion later, okay, guys?”

  
Touching his child briefly on the shoulder, the god whispered, “Thank you,” and planted a kiss on her brow.

  
“I love you, Dad,” the teenager whispered before beginning her march down the aisle, the heart on her back reminding the Jotunn of why he was doing this.

 

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Loki started his own walk. His feet, bare under the gown to prevent any discomfort later, crushed the scarlet and white rose petals that his niece had deposited, releasing their sweet scent into the air. He kept his head high, smiling with anticipation, his focus remaining straight in front of him, waiting to see Thor. When his husband came into view, his heart flip flopped rapidly. Dressed in his ceremonial armor with his red cape exchanged for Loki’s emerald cloak, the pendant he had worn when he had married Jane displayed proudly on his chest, the God of Thunder looked awestruck and overjoyed. The feeling was infectious and the Jotunn did all he could to not race down the aisle and into his lover’s eager arms.

  
When he reached the base of the steps he paused, watching the blonde man sensuously move down the steps to collect him. “You look....just wow, Loki. Wow.” The blue eyes glittered brilliantly, putting even the cleanest cut sapphires to shame.

  
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” he whispered as they ascended the steps towards their Mother, smiling warmly.

  
Frigga was positively beaming as she spoke the opening words of the ceremony. “People of Asgard, the Nine, and honored and distinguished dignitaries and guests. We are gathered here today to join together in sacred matrimony, this man Thor Odinson, and this woman, Oriana Farbautidottir. This is a most holy bond, formed from the deepest and purest of all affections: Love. Once enacted, it can only be severed by Death. If anyone has any objections as to why this man and this woman should not be joined in matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

  
The All-Mother paused, waiting for objections that she knew would not come, before continuing. “Have you come be for me, Frigga, All-Mother of the Nine, Goddess of Matrimony, willingly and with love in your hearts?”

  
“Yes,” murmured the couple, squeezing their hands in unison and anticipation.

  
“Do you understand the responsibilities of marriage? To love one another through the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, all the days of your lives until the coming of Ragnarok?”

  
“I do,” the couple whispered, stealing glances at each other out of the corners of their eyes.

  
“Please, light the candles.” Frigga gestured to the tall, white candles on either side of her. Taking a lighted taper from Fandral, Thor lit his, his hand steady, before passing the taper to Loki. When their hands brushed, both men blushed crimson, glad that no one but their mother and closest friends could see. He quickly lit his candle and blew out the taper’s flame.

  
“These candles,” Frigga intoned, “Represent your love for one another. May they never die or sputter and may they weather all storms that you may face.” She smiled softly, knowing that literal trials were just around the corner.

  
“Bring forth the rings.” Torsten shuffled forward, his chest puffed out with importance, and offered the pillow to his grandmother for her blessing. She whispered over the bands, Loki’s original,thin band joined by a thicker band of gold for Thor, both simple and unadorned. As the All-Mother chanted, minuscule runes etched themselves along the lengths of the rings, protecting the wearers and strengthening their bond of love. When she finished, each man picked up the other’s ring and turned to face the other.

  
Thor’s blue eyes had tears playing at the edges, though he was smiling like a loon. Loki was certain that he was also crying, though he couldn’t tell. He was just too happy.

  
“Thor Odinson, King of Asgard, All-Father of the Nine, do you swear to take this being to love and to cherish, for the rest of her days?”

  
Smiling at Loki and gently picking up his slender hand, the God of Thunder said, “I do.” As the thin circlet encompassed his finger, a rumble of thunder was heard in the distance, a reminder of Thor’s many gifts to him in his captivity.

 

“Oriana Farbautidottir, do you swear to take this being to love and cherish, for the rest of his days?”

  
Holding Thor’s much larger hand in his small left hand, he whispered, “I do,” and quickly slid the band over his husband’s left ring finger.   
As they stood, hand-in-hand, Frigga drew forth a thin, gold chord and loosely tied it around their wrists, literally binding them together. “By the powers vested in me, through the Nine as my position of All-Mother, I now join you as Husband and Wife, and pass my burden and responsibilities to my successor.”

  
Loki gasped as the seidr encompassed his body and Thor’s very essence flooded his every cell. Unable to resist he launched himself upwards into Thor’s arms, his lips connecting with his husband’s, initiating the seidr that would unravel and rebuild his glamor. He felt himself grow taller, his feet finding the ground, his arms thickening with wiry muscle as they encompassed Thor. Lastly, as the glow faded, his dress dissipated. Not that he noticed. All there was was Thor and his kiss that was searing through his thin, practically naked body, to his very core.

  
That was, of course, until the screaming and shouting began.


	9. Chapter 9

**Grand Hall - Asgard**

  
The newly married couple broke their kiss reluctantly, still gazing into each other’s eyes. “Are you ready for this, my Love?” Thor whispered, a thumb stroking the smooth pale cheekbone of the other man.

  
“I don’t believe we have a choice,” Loki sighed, feeling rough hands grab his shoulders and arms, pulling him away from the King. His heels, bare and tender in his Aesir skin, scraped along the dais and down the steps to the polished marble and gold floor below. He was man-handled into a kneeling position, his face blushing crimson with his anger and humiliation, and heavy manacles, incredibly insufficient magic suppressors for his combined seidr, were strapped to his wrists, pinning his arms behind him.

  
In the distance, at the top of the dais, stood Thor, shaking off the guards that tried to restrain him like water droplets, shouting above the crowd and the rolling thunder, begging them to let Loki go. Finally, in a rather dishonorable move, Sif clocked the King on the back of his blonde head, knocking him out cold. The Jotunn shrieked his rage, swiftly moving to attack the woman who dared to touch his husband, only to be forced back to the floor, his knees and shins bruised against the hard, cold stone.

  
The limp figure of the God of Thunder was carried down the steps, almost reverently, to lay beside him at the foot of the dais, seidr suppressing cuffs placed on his wrists as well. The twins were screaming, crying, trying to escape the clutches of their grandmother and now step-sister. The Avengers, Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun were fighting the guards and the mob-like crowd and were losing.

  
Quietly and calmly, Loki bowed his head and uttered a single word, laced with seidr. “ **Stop**.”

  
The noise, unbearable, even for his less sensitive Aesir ears, ceased and the fighting ended. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the top of the dais, the Council of the Nine assembled above himself and Thor, looking smug. “Shall we begin, Counselors?” the Jotunn asked, his eyebrows raised in innocence.

  
Beside him, Thor moaned, coming to out of his brief bout of unconsciousness. Concerned, Loki turned to look at his life-mate as he struggled to rise. Guards helped him to a kneeling position, as Thor turned to look at the man he had just married, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. Slowly, the king mouthed, _I love you_. The Jotunn blushed more fiercely than before, and responded in kind. _You too, you big oaf_. Thor beamed, turning his attention to the council assembled before them.

  
“What is the meaning of this Counsel Members? What is the cause for this trial? Should we not be celebrating?” His regal voice boomed, echoing through the vast hall, reaching all the assembled people.

  
The central figure, a Lord Gunnarr Njordson of ancient heritage and rather old-fashioned thinking, spoke. “It is clear that a law has been broken, my King, and that you have been bewitched by that...monster-” Loki bared his teeth angrily, again missing the full effect that his fangs would have had, “seduced into a marriage, not only of an incestuous nature, but one that is also against the very nature of our people. Men do not bed other men, much less take them through the sacred ritual of marriage.”

  
“Well, it appears that I have done just that!” Thor thundered. “And, further more, I am rather happy. Now, if you don’t mind letting us up, there is a reception-”

  
“My King,” Gunnarr cut in, “This matter is troubling and cannot be brushed aside. Punishment shall be wrought, justice served, this...abomination to the tradition of marriage annulled.”

  
“HOW DARE YOU!” Thor bellowed, struggling to rise as four guards pushed him down to the floor.

  
“Yes,” Loki intoned, quietly, evenly. “How do you intend to punish us when we are the two most powerful beings in the Nine? I would deem it unwise for you to try.”

  
The council twittered amongst themselves, whispering and discussing what had transpired. The Jotunn shot his husband a sideways glance, which was returned with equal curiosity, praying that his words had dissuaded any thoughts of violence against the man he loved.

  
The silence and tension grew thick and heavy, weighing down the assembly, gathered for a wedding and witnessing a trail. No one moved, the guards holding the mob at bay were as curious as the crowd. The twins were crying, not understanding why they were being kept from their father and their uncle. Aiko was holding them, cooing to them in an attempt to comfort their fears and to hide her own. Frigga stood proudly, her head held high in defiance for supporting her sons in their quest to find eternal happiness.

  
Finally, Gunnarr spoke. “The Council deems that the King and All-Father, Thor Odinson, shall be relieved of the seidr placed upon him that is clouding his mind through the use of a purge potion concocted by the enchantress Lorelei. Once consumed, any enchantment placed upon him shall be stripped away. He will receive twenty-five lashes. Loki _Laufeyson_ , schemer and traitor to every realm, shall again be stripped of his seidr through the power of the All-Father, and castrated as an ergy of the lowest degree. Upon the completion of these punishments, their marriage contract shall be null and void and they shall never see each other again, the King left to rule his people as he has been doing wisely and justly for the last thirty years, and the Jotunn to his cell on Midgard, where he never should have escaped. This is the will of the Council.”

  
Loki could feel the blood drain from his face. His own punishment was not harsh, in fact, he knew for certain that it would never be enacted. He was too powerful, no one would be able to restrain the siedr that roiled through his veins. Thor’s, on the other hand, would be. Already, the small sorceress was walking forward, a bottle of bright blue liquid in her grasp. His husband’s mouth was forced open and the potion was poured inside, his jaw clamped shut to prevent any of it escaping. Thor swallowed and defiantly licked his lips with a smirk. “What a waste,” he intoned. “I hope there weren’t any rare ingredients in there. You cannot purge pure emotion. I am sorry that you will be dissatisfied.”

  
When nothing visible happened, the disappointment on the faces of the Council was evident. They shot confused and frightened looks up and down the dais as the realization that their king was not the man they’d pegged him for became evident. Loki smirked as Thor glared at them defiantly, there was no magic that the Jotunn had placed on the man to make him love him. The King loved him all on his own.

  
Guards swiftly pulled the larger man’s armor off, baring his back. His eyes went wide, feeling the cool air against his tanned skin. With a quick glance behind him, the Jotunn found the executioner, a cat o’nine tails swinging from his belt. Frightened as the torture device drew nearer, swinging cruelly through the air with a soft hiss, Loki struggled against his guards, attempting to rise to his feet, to throw himself in front of Thor’s back, to take the punishment himself. The guards laughed cruelly, large hands shoving him against the ground, scraping his shins and bruising his shoulders. He gulped, digging through his seidr and applying spell after spell to Thor’s back, coating the cruel whip with barriers to prevent extensive damage, praying that it would be enough.

  
The God of Thunder was pulled to his feet, his head held high. The crowd was growing restless, upset at the unjust punishment their King was facing for loving someone deemed unworthy. When the whip whistled through the air, striking the muscular back of the King of Asgard, the entire assembly gasped. Thor did not move, feeling nothing thanks to Loki’s spells. The snapping made the Jotunn flinch with each strike, feeling his seidr weaken as the whip flew. Channeling as much of his healing magic into the other man as possible without leaving himself too vulnerable, the spells still unwound with two strokes to go. On the twenty-fourth blow, Thor’s back was opened, the hooks woven into the leather tearing away his tanned flesh. The large man bellowed, the thunder rolling around the palace, frightening the assembly. The lash flew again, pulling at the broad back and muscles, opening him up.

  
The King of the Gods yelped again, crying out over the thunder, and collapsing to his knees, his head hanging from his battered shoulders. Tears were running down his face, twisted with pain. Loki could feel hot trails running down his own cheeks at the sight.

  
“That appeared to be rather ineffective. He obviously used his seidr to protect himself. The gift of the All-Father. Lorelei,” Gunnarr barked. The sorceress appeared as if out of no where, curtsying to the council.

  
“My Lords and Ladies,” she intoned calmly.

  
“Harness his seidr. We’re going to have to start from number 3, as the first 23 did not appear to work.” The Lord who had placed himself in charge made a grand sweeping gesture, ushering the woman forward to the injured man.

  
“Please, no! Stop! Don’t harm him any longer!” Loki begged, unwilling to see Thor hurt further, but unwilling to reveal more about himself. “This is obviously a personal vendetta against me. Thor, your King, has nothing to do with this! Beat me, castrate me, kill me, but spare him. Please! I’m _begging_ you.”

  
Aiko and the twins cried louder. Torsten, the brave little warrior that he was tried to escape the grasp of the man that guarded him as his sister kicked and flailed uselessly. Lord Gunnarr laughed darkly, his face taking on a maniacal light. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen. I have been waiting to hear you beg since you arrived here in chains all those years ago. But no, you had pride. Where it’s gone now, I don’t know. All I know is that your unnatural love has made you weak, and in turn, has made our King and country weak. You must be broken and eliminated.”

  
“ _NO_!” shouted Aiko from behind that wide shoulders of a tall guard. “Leave him alone! He has done so much to help this realm and so many others! Just because he doesn’t proclaim it from the rooftops doesn’t mean that he’s not doing anything! Ooof...”

  
His daughter’s protest was cut off by a sharp elbow to the stomach from the man who was guarding her. “Stop!” Loki moaned “The children are innocent! Leave them be! Please, take them away. They shouldn’t have to witness this.”

  
His protests were cut-off by a yelp from Thor. The enchantress was latched on to his wrist and was pulsing her seidr through him, searching for what Thor and Loki both knew was not there. She was frustrated at her lack of findings and was causing pain because of it. “My Lord Gunnarr, there does not appear to be any seidr at all with in the King besides his control of the storms. Wait...there is some trace of something else...but it is not All-Father seidr.”

  
“He must be hiding it,” the Lord growled. “Executioner, proceed with your punishment.”

  
The cat flew through the air, connecting with a wall of ice, which quickly grew over and around the tails of leather and hooks, immobilizing it thoroughly. Unable to bear his family being hurt any longer, Loki released a pulse of his combined seidr’s outwards, bowling over anyone within a twenty foot radius. “NO!” he bellowed. “THIS INJUSTICE MUST **STOP!** ”

  
Releasing his glamour with a flourish, his horns erupting with his teeth and claws, the Jotunn rose to his feet, the cuffs falling away. Layering his gruff voice with his seidr, he menacingly asked, “How can he be hiding it if it was never his to begin with?”

 

He smirked menacingly, his seidr playing over his claws, a flourish of green, blue, and gold. Quickly, he moved to his lover’s side, straddling him protectively. “Listen to me people of the Nine! I am Loki Laufeyson, All-Father to the Nine realms, a position I inherited from Odin Borson. A position I was selected for since my birth and trained for through my entire life. I have been watching you, helping the Nine heal from the wounds that myself and others have inflicted upon it, aiding you in the betterment of people everywhere. I have established peace between warring peoples, I have helped barren fields bear fruit, I have drawn water in the deserts of your realms. I have worked for equal rights for everyone: Aesir, Midgardian, Jotunn, Elf-kind, Dwarves, Demons, ergy, gay, lesbian, transgendered, intersex. _Everyone, everywhere, deserves to live their lives to the fullest extent with the greatest amount of happiness that they have earned_. Is that too much to ask? For happy, healthy, full lives for everyone who resides within the Nine? That is what I am trying to establish as All-Father. Will you aid me in my task?”

  
The silence was crushing, the statement made by the Jotunn weighing on everyone’s minds. Loki stood over his tortured husband, the man he loved who was so undeserving of the wounds that had been inflicted on his body. His ruby eyes scanned the scene before him, hundred of eyes fixed on him. Some in admiration, some in horror, some in curiosity, his family in love.

  
Quietly, a male voice whispered, “As a member of the Council of the Nine, I move to abolish the Law that prohibits men and women from marrying whom they choose, whether male, female, intersex, or otherwise.” Loki turned to see Fandral, the first Asgardian outside of his immediate family to accept him in his new form, stood on the steps of the dais, bravely staring down the assembled elders of Asgard who sat above him, dumb-struck.

  
“And I second the motion!” shouted Volstagg, rising to his feet and joining Fandral. Hogun, silent as usual, walked past the Jotunn, with a small clap on his shoulder, and moved to stand beside Volstagg.

  
Cocking an eyebrow and grinning wickedly at the men and women who had placed themselves above him, Loki stated matter-of-factly, “I believe a vote is in order councilmen. Shall we begin?”

  
As the Council, shocked into submission and threatened by the mob of the populace that had suddenly decided that they didn’t mind the Jotunn that much, voted unanimously to eliminate the Law, Loki knelt beside his husband.

  
“L-Loki?” Thor’s voice was weak with pain and he flinched at the light, cool touch of his husband’s hand.

  
“Yes, Thor,” the All-Father murmured. “I am here. No one’s going to harm you ever again. I promise.”

  
The King shuddered, feeling the seidr, warmed with love and tenderness, enter his body, healing his brutalized back. His life-mate hummed softly, his icy hands traveling over his face. wiping away tears and brushing his hair from his sweat-soaked face. Loki pressed his cool lips to Thor’s brow, soothing his haggard breathing. “I love you, you big oaf,” he whispered.

  
“I love you, too, my life-mate,” Thor whispered, bringing a large hand to the back of the blue man’s horned head, and drew it so their brows met, smiling. The Jotunn returned the smile, his eyes getting lost in the blue orbs that were set in the tanned face in front of him. With a soft sigh, the King placed a sweaty hand over the other man’s cold fingers. “Leave the scars. Please.”

  
Loki cocked an eyebrow, but did as he was asked. The king smiled. “May they be a reminder of what was and what should _never_ come again.”

  
The Jotunn smiled, tears leaving trails of frost down his cheeks. Lovingly, he placed his cool lips on the top-most scar, a wicked and cruelly curved line that snaked over his husband’s once perfect shoulder. Now they both wore signs of their bravery.

  
“We did it, Dad!” Aiko barreled into the men, wrapping them into her arms, laughing with reckless abandon.

  
“Daddy! Blue!” The twins joined the pile, wriggling in between the two newlyweds. Small hands stroked his horns lovingly, while the other hands wound around their father’s neck, tiny bodies settled into their laps, drawing them even closer together. Frigga knelt beside the little family, her own arms wrapping around her sons. A family, in it’s entirety. Whole and perfect.


	10. Chapter 10

**Loki’s Chambers - Bilskirnir, Asgard**

  
“I’ll watch the little ones tonight,” Aiko whispered, smiling as her eyes twinkled. “In case they have nightmares, they were told to come to my rooms.”

  
The Jotunn leaned against the door jam. “That’s not necessary, my Child of Love. Thor and I can care for the children.”

  
“Nope. I insist, Blue,” she said conspiratorially. She smiled broadly and trounced off down the hallway, her braid swinging over the heart-shape keyhole in the back of her gown. “Have fun!” she called with a wave of her hand before disappearing into her rooms and closed the door firmly behind her. The door opened abruptly opened again. “Oh, and by the way, I want a nest bed of my own, seeing as sharing with you just became _very_ awkward!” The door slammed shut, cutting off her giggle.

  
Loki stared at the closed door for what seemed like an eternity. His daughter was overjoyed that he had found his life-mate, so much so that he was taken aback by her forward statements and hints at what was to come. She, apparently, had no problem with it. _That makes one of us,_ he thought, the familiar creep of doubt setting in over the confidence that he had borne in the great hall just hours earlier. With a sigh, his nerves suddenly becoming very apparent, the Jotunn turned away from the hallway and towards his sitting room.

  
His husband would be joining him this evening. The jovial blonde was still galavanting around with the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif, despite her faults, at the reception. Traditionally, the bride left early to prepare herself for her husband and for the consummation of the arrangement of marriage. That meant that Thor would see him. All of him in his blue, ridged glory. He swallowed and headed towards his bathing chamber. _At least my hideous body would smell nice_ , he thought cynically. _Thor will not reject me because of my lack of hygiene_.

  
The water, comfortably warm against his icy skin, relieved his achy muscles and calmed him. The fresh scent of pine floated above the soap that bore it, soaking his skin and hair. He scrubbed every last inch of his body twice, combing through his hair that tumbled to the middle of his back with his ebony claws. He’d need to cut it again.

  
As he tousled his hair, braiding it loosely down his back, he wrapped his body in his favorite robe, hoping that it would bring confidence. He looked at his form in the mirror, tracing his features with his ruby gaze. Shame penetrated his core as he scanned the ridges, claws, deformed feet and the horns. The King of Asgard had married **this**. Would be bedding **this**. No matter what the King was feeling, the love that the All-Father knew was so true and so pure after the events of the trial, it would not be enough to stomach his life-mate’s true form: as cold and terrifying as the wastes of winter.

  
Loki sighed, pulling his female glamor about his body. He had never experienced intercourse as a female, despite the rumors that swirled through the Nine. He was bound to be no good at it, but it would keep his deformity hidden and it would be familiar to his husband. _It might also_ , the disguised Jotunn hoped, _keep the urge to mark at bay_. Without his fangs, he could not tear into his lover’s already wounded shoulder and compete the Jotunn ritual. Thor would still have the option to leave, if he so chose.

  
Taking a deep, calming breath, he arranged his features accordingly, and exited from the bathroom. He was greeted by candlelight from over one hundred candles, the smell of ozone and rain, and the image of the scarred back of a tall, proud warrior.

  
Thor was standing at the French doors, watching the stars traverse the skies. He was wearing a pair of scarlet, silk pajama bottoms slung low over his narrow hips. His hair was loose, brushing his shoulders like a blonde, wavy mop.

  
“Thor,” Loki breathed, his breath stolen by the sight before him. “This was unnecessary.”

  
The King of Asgard, All-Mother of the Nine, turned slowly, his head cocked to the side as he looked at the small woman before him, wrapped in an emerald green robe that was too large for her. “Loki,” he breathed, drawing nearer to his life-mate. “Why would any act of love be unnecessary?”

  
The Jotunn’s full lips twitched briefly into a smile. “Because I already know, and I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you.”

  
Thor’s large, warm hand, came to rest on his pale cheek, his thumb caressing the cheekbone, drawing a blush. Loki leaned into the sensation, closing his eyes. Hot breath hovered over his lips, and they rose to meet the other man’s gentle lips. It was chaste, nurturing and stoked the fire that burned within the Jotunn, making him want more, making his heart ache with need.

  
The other man broke the kiss, pulling back as his thumb continued to stroke the warm skin beneath it. His pupils were wide, dilated and hiding the sky blue of his iris, covetous, though his mouth had a serious set to it. “Don’t _ever_ think that you don’t deserve my love, Loki. Because if anyone in all the Nine deserves love and happiness, it is you.”

  
The Jotunn felt a blush creep into his cheeks, an outward sign of the fire that burned within him. He stood on tiptoe, leaning forward to kiss his life-mate again, his arms flung around the other man’s neck. The kiss encompassed his passion, showing it to the King, who returned it with fervor, his lips parting slightly to allow his warm breath scented with ozone and mead, escape. A hand, gentle, yet firm, released the grasp that Loki had on Thor’s hair, again pulling away.

  
The Jotunn took a step back, confused at being spurned by his lover twice. He pulled the robe tighter about his curvy figure, blushing fiercely as he hung his head in a confused state of shame. Softly, he flitted his green eyes up to the King’s blue orbs. “You say you love me but do you not want me, Thor?” he whispered, his flutey voice trembling with melancholic urgency.

  
Thor took a small step forward, his arms reaching out and grasping the slim, feminine shoulders that Loki was wearing. “I want **you** , Loki, not some glamor. **You**.”

  
The taller man watched as fear flooded into the woman’s eyes, and he relinquished his grasp, stepping back. He ran a hand through his loose hair, frustrated that his ‘brother’ couldn’t see that he was handsome, that he was beautiful. That he was perfect.

  
Loki watched his husband fidget before him, flickering in the candlelight, bold and handsome. The man that he had wanted to be for so many years. A paragon, shining above the masses. He was flawed, yes, but in his eyes, Thor was perfection. He withdrew, arms crossing over his chest, holding his glamor in place like shield.

  
Thor looked at him as if he was seeing the most spectacular sight in all the Nine. He reached towards the still feminine figure of his husband before thinking better of it, his arms falling to his sides heavily. His blue eyes lighted onto the emerald eyes that continued to look back at him like a trapped animal. The King sighed and murmured,“I know that you still struggle to find yourself anything more than an icy, blue monster, but that’s not you. That’s what society wants you to think you are. No, Loki, you’re so much more than that. You think that because you are different, no one should want you. No one would find you ethereal and exotic and stunningly beautiful. No one should strive to emulate your selfless actions to better every realm that falls under your care. I also know that I cannot make you do anything you don’t want to do, so I will wait for you, just as you waited for me. Because you are all of those things, Loki. Just as you are - just as you were born to be.”

  
“Yuh-you only want th-the m-monster?’ Loki stammered, shocked by his brother’s high praise.

  
“No, that’s not what I said. Not entirely,” Thor restated. “I just want our first time, our _bonding_ experience, to be with you. The real you. Your true body and form that awoke that need within the both of us.”

  
“But what if you don’t like what you see?” he whispered quietly, looking at his delicate toes.

  
“I doubt that there will be anything that I could find less than perfect, Loki.” Thor smiled warmly, offering his brother a hand with a small incline of his head. Hesitantly, Loki took the warm hand, trembling as he dissolved the glamour. The sharp pain that accompanied it was acute and brief, making him hiss softly as he inhaled. Thor’s bright blue eyes never left his life-mate’s shifting body, waiting for the regal Jotunn to stand before him once again, turned on, by the evidence that was playing across his features and certain body parts.

  
Loki barely had time to breath before he was wrapped into a crushing embrace, his lips parted by a hot, greedy tongue that ran over his fangs and aching gums. The scent of Thor was so prominent, it overwhelmed the slightly shorter man and he nearly lost control right there. Inhaling to return his clarity of mind, the Jotunn drew his head back quickly. “Thor,” he gasped, his body, needy and aching pressed against the long, muscular torso of the blonde man. “I won’t be able to resist marking you. Not in this form.”

  
The King leaned in, his heat encompassing Loki’s cool body completely. “So? I am yours and you are mine.” His blunt teeth nipped at the thin blue lower lip of his lover.

  
The Jotunn leaned his head away again. “It is lasting, there is no escape from this bonding. It is for life...”

  
Hot lips encompassed his mouth, sucking hungrily. Breaking the kiss wetly, the King of Asgard whispered, “And what a wonderful life it will be.” He found himself enveloped into an even deeper, more passionate kiss than he could have imagined. His Jotunn ridges were on overdrive, making every simple brush or hint of contact feel like an all-consuming wildfire. A deep, guttural moan-like purr ripped through his chest. Thor apparently liked it because he grasped him slighter frame tighter to his chest, his erection briefly brushing his own.

  
Both of them gasped in unison. Loki’s clawed hands left thin, red trails along Thor’s body, lightly marking him as he traveled to the other man’s drawstring waistband. His eyes, wide, asking permission, were greeted by a sharp nod as the God of Thunder’s tongue traced the exposed ridges along his neck.

  
Tugging and pushing, the two men found themselves in the bowl of the nest, the robed Jotunn straddling the naked Aesir. Breaking their heated kiss, Loki rolled off of Thor, drinking him in. “May I?” he whispered huskily.

  
“Of course,” Thor replied, his eyes never leaving the blue man’s awed face. The King inhaled sharply and shivered when his not-sibling’s cool fingers touched his cheek. “Cold,” he chuckled.

  
“Frost Giant,” Loki muttered, distracted by the feeling of the other man’s skin under his rough callouses. Carefully, so as not to scratch his life-mate, he traced the other man’s nose and mouth, his fingers playing through the beard that he could (and would) never grow and up into the sandy blonde mop of hair, combing it with his ebony claws. His hands found their way down Thor’s thick neck and onto his muscular chest, marveling at the sculpted pectoral muscles and defined abdominals, coated with curled wiry golden hair, barely visible from a distance. After ringing the other man’s bellybutton, his fingers found their way to the strong, worthy arms that commanded the storms and called Mjölnir, pausing briefly to trace the simple gold band on his left ring finger before returning to the broad chest.

  
The king hummed his encouragement and approval as the Jotunn’s cool hands moved lower. His mate would certainly not leave him wanting, that was clear. Placing a gentle kiss on a tanned hip, his fingers traced further down the other man’s legs before surging upwards to claim the King’s lips. His deep purr was resonating out of his chest, much to his embarrassment.

  
The blue man ducked his head, nuzzling his mate’s neck, soaking in his scent before pulling away. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, planting a small kiss on Thor’s collarbone. “That just happens. I can’t control it.”

  
“Why apologize?” the God of Thunder asked, his hands rubbing the slighter man’s shoulders, thunder rumbling outside the french doors, rattling the glass. “We match.” He beamed, bringing his lips to Loki’s, accepting, nay _loving_ , his peculiarities. The Jotunn smiled back, his fangs gleaming in the flickering candlelight.

  
“Thor,” he whispered, his ruby eyes piercing into the other man’s soul. “I-I want you to see me.”

  
The blonde cocked his head, still smiling. “I _am_ seeing you.” A warm hand caressed his Bergelmir’s Tears and he leaned into the sensation. He reached up and trapped the larger hand in his claws. Slowly, he brought the hand down the length of his covered body, tracing his Tears, then his covered Mantle and Heart, down to the cinched belt.

  
“ _All_ of me,” he breathed. Thor’s breath caught in his throat, and his eyes widened infinitesimally, his pupils dilated. Slowly, reverently, he untied the emerald silk robe and eased it from the Jotunn’s shoulders, revealing the blue, lined expanse of his body. He shucked in a breath, causing Loki to close his eyes, ready for rejection.

  
Instead, he heard a soft inhale and felt hot fingers tracing his ridges, stroking his cheeks and around the base of his horns. “May I?” his life-mate’s deep voice resonated through his consciousness. His ruby eyes snapped open, meeting Thor’s shining blue orbs, filled with love and adoration. Slowly, biting his lower lip, he nodded.

  
Surprisingly, the hands did not travel south, as the blue man first thought they would. Instead a single finger ran over the spiraled rings of one of his prominences, following the arch, before returning to the base and repeating the motion on the other horn. Warm lips, surrounded by wiry beard, kissed each base, where the skin parted and released the curved bone. “I love these. So regal,” the King murmured bringing his lips back to the blue pair beside him.

  
His husband’s hands flowed downward, following the lines as they traversed and mapped his thinly muscled body. The god’s warm tongue gently licked each nipple, once used to feed his children, causing him to gasp and wriggle, his hands flying to Thor’s blonde hair, winding it around his claws. Next, the King of Asgard’s lips found the center of his life-mate’s Heart, the perfect circle on his breastbone and Loki was certain that the other man could feel his heartbeat pounding through his ribcage. His resonant purr began again, of it’s own accord, stimulated by his lover’s ministrations.

  
He became more self-conscious as his husband’s heated touch flowed further down his body, his lips following behind. When the King found his manhood, his breath caught as his strange sexuality was revealed. The Jotunn shifted, attempting to hide the lower part of his body from Thor with little success. “No,” his husband whispered, placing a large hand on one of his thighs. “You’re perfect. I could not ask for anything more.”

  
Loki looked at him in shock. “What?” he hissed in awe.

  
Thor’s fingers flitted around his privates, brushing over the ridges that carved into the skin there. “You. Are. Perfect. Loki,” the God of Thunder said with some force behind it, his voice dripping with conviction.

  
The Jotunn’s lips twitched into a one side smile. “Thor...”he began, heat rushing to his cheeks, though his blush was unseen. “I don’t know what to say.”

  
Thor smiled, leaning up for another kiss. “You don’t have to say a thing. Now let me worship at the alter of Chaos.”

  
Loki purred his approval, matching the crashing of the thunder outside the window, the summery sound mixed with flashes of lightning and flurries of thick snow.

 


	11. Chapter 11

  
The sun shown brightly through the emerald curtains, reflecting off of the snow drifts outside like a million tiny diamonds. Loki lay beside his husband, one clawed hand stroking the tangle of blonde hair below his nose, purring lightly at the sensation. His blue limbs were tangled with the tanned arms and legs of Thor, who still slumbered quietly at his side, his face buried into the Jotunn’s chest, comforted by the steady heartbeat and the thrum of the rumbling that originated somewhere beneath it.

  
The previous night had left the All-Father truly shaken. The world, as he had known it, ceased to exist. His brother, turned husband, had laid with him lovingly and without disgust or judgement. In fact, he had never been so well-loved in his long life. It could not have been more perfect, and yet, he still found himself surprised to find the blonde god beside him in the light of the morning, his arms encompassing his cold torso and his legs wound around his own long limbs.

  
His claws edged downward, brushing the golden locks from his life-mate’s shoulder, revealing the truth behind their love-making. They had pleased each other multiple times to the point of exhaustion before the mark was made. When he had been unable to control himself any further, when he had been ignited with a passion and love that he knew was reciprocated unwaveringly, when they had been joined so perfectly and intimately, he had fallen apart that final time, the King following him over the edge, and he had completed the ritual, claiming Thor as his and only his. The puncture wounds, now scabbed and scarring, lay over the base of the King’s thick trapezius, a perfectly round oval comprise of smaller circles. The sight of it made the Jotunn preen with possessive pride. _Mine_ , he thought lovingly. _All mine_. With a soft, cool exhale, Loki bent his head and kissed the center of the mate mark, his own neck throbbing in protest. Thor had marked him too, his blunt teeth tearing into the thinner skin above his collarbone. How the Aesir had managed to do that against his metal-resistant flesh, he had no idea, but it made him smile with pride to know that the King had claimed him as well.

 

Humming, he inhaled up along his husband’s sleeping neck and face, taking in the scent of ozone, rain, lemon grass and sex, the golden beard tickling his nose. Placing another kiss on the top of his life-mate’s head, he snuggled into the heat he provided, surprisingly not burned by the contact, once more carding the blonde hair lovingly, observing the sunlight as it played through the gold-spun waves. Thor was so perfect, so handsome, and for some crazy reason, he had chosen a Jotunn runt ( _not that said runt was complaining_ ) to spend the rest of his days with. Sighing contentedly, Loki rested his chin on top of his life-mate’s head, content to while away the morning holding the All-Mother to his breast.

  
The King of Asgard stirred, rubbing his nose along the blue man’s Mantle, pausing to kiss the tear he had placed in his husband’s shoulder. Loki’s purr grew louder under his lover’s attentions. “Hmmm. Good morning,” he murmured, his claws still running through the golden mane in front of him.

  
The God of Thunder’s striking eyes rolled up to meet his own ruby orbs with a shy smile. “Good morning yourself,” the other man grumbled, his deep voice vibrating along the entirety of the Jotunn’s body, causing his hooked toes to curl and flex with pleasure. “Someone is still handsome in the morning.”

  
A large, warm hand stroked his loosened braid, gently pulling and pushing loose hair off and away from his horns. The Jotunn smiled, bowing his head to allow his mate easier access to the keratin prominences. “Thank you,” he muttered, “That is high praise, considering we both know that that statement is very far from true. You, on the other hand...” He bent his head, lips, skimming over the perfect pink pair of his life-mate.

  
A sharp knock, followed by the sound of pattering along the door and little voices. “Daddy! Blue! Wake up!” Daryn shouted through the thick wood of the bedroom door.

  
“It’s Christmas! And we want to open presents!” Torsten chimed in.

  
“We’ll be there,” Thor boomed, causing Loki to wince, pulling his claws out of the other god’s hair and clamping that palm onto his exposed ear. The God of Thunder smiled sheepishly, covering his cool, Clawed hand with his own as he continued. “Give us an hour!”

 

The ponding stopped and the patter of little feet grew fainter as the twins left the sitting room beyond. “I’m so sorry,” Thor apologized, moving his hand to stroke the Jotunn’s face gingerly. “I forgot...”

  
Loki pulled back, sitting up abruptly. “HOW could you forget Thor?” he hissed, wounded, his eardrum still throbbing from the assault it had just been subject to. “I’m BLUE for Norn’s sake. You were just detangling my hair from my HORNS! I ate raw stag at our wedding feast. I marked you with my FANGS. **_Thor..._** ”

  
The blonde man looked petrified and ashamed as he sat up, his gaze never leaving the unsettling orbs that were glaring at him from under a Horned brow. “I didn’t mean to offend you, make you upset. I _see_ you and I _love_ you because of it. There are just a few things that I need to remember for the future. You’re hearing is acutely sensitive...” He placed a gentle, soothing kiss on his cool ear. “You have different rumbles and purrs to mean different things...” His searing lips moved to his Heart, planting a kiss there reverently. “You have a wicked tongue and even more wicked teeth, if my neck has anything to say about it...” His lips met with and parted the cool lips of his life-mate, tracing his fangs, playing with his tongue.

  
Trying to resist, Loki found himself melting under the loving ministrations of his husband, meeting his tongue with his own. Quickly, finding his opening, the King of Asgard pulled back with a smirk. “And lastly, and by far the most importantly, you are the most stunning being in all the Nine and you are _mine_.”

  
The Jotunn smiled back. “Only because you will have me.” He placed a passionate kiss on the other man’s lips which was all too brief. “We should get going. You can bathe first.”

  
Turning his back to the other man, he rolled out of the nest, acutely aware of Thor’s eyes watching him. Smiling coyly, he tossed his ruined braid over his shoulder and looked back at his husband. “Hurry up, Darling. Let’s not keep the children waiting.”

  
Thor’s admiring and lust-filled gaze held his ruby eyes. “Or we could share...” he suggested with a sly smile, climbing out of the bed and wrapping his muscular arms around his thin, Winged waist.

  
Loki shook his head, sadly. “No...no, we can’t, which is why you need to get going.” He attempted to shrug out of his life-mate’s embrace. “Or have you forgotten? Your lukewarm bath water would scald me and my hot water would be only room temperature for you. Uncomfortable, either way.”

  
“I didn’t forget. I was just hopeful.” Thor took in a lungful of the shorter man’s scent and kissed his Bergelmir’s Tears. “We’ll figure it out someday, and that’s a promise.”

  
Spinning gracefully in the Thunder God’s arms, the All-Father placed a kiss onto the other man’s mouth. “I will work on that another time. Now,” another peck. “Go,” a little playful nip. “Bathe.” He nuzzled Thor’s neck, kissing the bond mark at the juncture of his neck.   
____________________________________________

  
Exactly an hour later, the two men entered Frigga’s sitting room, their arms around each other’s waists, presents under their free arms. Almost immediately upon their arrival, two balls of relentless enthusiasm barreled into them, promptly causing all of the gifts to nearly crash to the floor, saved only by a quick wave of Loki’s hand that sent them spiraling under the tree into a neat stack. “Happy Christmas!” Thor chuckled, releasing his husband’s waist to kneel and embrace his children, ruffling their curly head and kissing their giggling cheeks.

  
The Jotunn headed to the couch, where he embraced his mother, pecking her cheek lightly, and met his own child. Aiko was looking at him, eyebrows raised while a knowing smirk flitted across her full lips, her eyes locked on the small tear in his shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Blue,” she said cheerfully, rising to wrap her arms around his neck and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

  
“Happy Christmas, my Child of Love,” he whispered back, kissing the top of her head. “Did you sleep well?”

  
“Very well, thank you, despite my lack of nest bed and purr machine.” She gave him a playful punch on the arm.

  
“Well, it’s a good thing today is Christmas, wouldn’t you say?” He kissed the top of her head again before releasing her from his grasp and turning to scoop up the twins who had begun to tug at his loincloth. “And a happiest of Christmas’s to you!”

  
“Happy Christmas, Blue!” Torsten squealed while Daryn stroked his horns and braid happily. “Did you hear the storm last night? It was really loud! The loudest snow ever!”

  
The Jotunn smiled, shooting a loving glance towards his husband who was sitting on the love seat. “Did it snow? Truly?” he chuckled, jostling Daryn on his hip and ruffling her brother’s dark locks.

  
“Yes, yes, Blue!” Daryn chimed in. “LOOK!”

  
The heir pulled him over to the french doors that led to the wide balcony. A good two feet of snow was drifted against the glass; the palace and grounds for as far as he could see was coated in a pure blanket of the white fluff. “Well, would you look at that!”

  
“Can we play in the snow? After presents, of course, but can we?”

  
“Yes, can we? I don’t think I’ve ever seen _real_ snow before!”

  
The twins’ joy over the simplest little flurry made the Jotunn glad of the unexpected side effect of the love-making that had occurred the previous evening. Any trace of embarrassment blew away in the snow-laced wind. “Of course, my Darlings! We shall have to be sure that you’re bundled warmly. Snow is cold,” He paused, feeling their little limbs, still wrapped around his icy body, shiver, before adding, “Like me.”

  
Setting the little one’s down and patting them gently on their bums, he chuckled as they scurried over to the tree and plopped themselves onto their bottoms, just as his own child had done on her first Aesir Christmas. They tittered and pushed and shoved but kept their hands away from the brightly wrapped presents. He wound his way around the piles of colorful gifts and squirming kids to settle onto the couch beside his husband, who promptly took his cool hand in his larger warmer one. He smiled and tilted his horns so that they gently clunked against the blonde man’s thick skull, enjoying the closeness of his family.   
___________________________________________

  
**The Garden of Frigga**

  
The royal family, bundled to their eyes in thick furs and knitted wear, burst through the french doors beside the silver and gold spangled Christmas tree and into the powder beyond. The twins were instantly engulfed, their laughter resounding as they pushed the snow out of their faces, blazing paths with their entire bodies. Aiko, born in a land of ice and snow on Midgard, smiled broadly, reminded of the days in her childhood when her father had created a skating rink on the floor of his cell and they had frolicked through the snow together. She bent carefully crafting a perfectly compact and rounded snowball and launched it at the Jotunn, hitting his partner perfectly on the back of his blonde head.

  
“HEY!” Thor bellowed, his hand flying to his now cold, wet hair, and spinning around to see his stepdaughter giggling uncontrollably. Quickly he bent and lumped a bunch of the white flakes together, whipping it up and tossing it after the retreating form of the teenager, and promptly hit his life-mate in the back.

  
“Oh,” he smiled villainously, his voice low and ominous, “You’re going to wish you hadn’t done that, Dearest.” One sweep of his hand created twenty perfectly formed snowballs at his feet. His smile shifted wickedly as he tossed them at Thor, the giggling twins, Aiko, and even Frigga. The family was quickly dissolved into gales of laughter only to face an assault from a seemingly harmless set of hedges.

  
“Hey!” Daryn yelped, receiving a giant ball of fluff to her already pink cheeks and nose.

  
“Leave my sister alone!” Torsten yelled, charging at the shrubbery as fast as his snowbound legs could manage. His bearer was already hurling a mini snow storm towards the hidden adversaries, an idea of who was lurking in the greenery.

  
“We surrender! We surrender!” A man wearing a purple coat over khaki pants stepped out, followed by a short Vanir woman with a smile on her pretty face, a small boy with red hair, blue eyes and freckles and a man in a spangly uniform that was not equipped for the cold, his shield covering the young boy.

  
Smirking, Loki strode forward and shifted his barrage so that it completely smothered the bushes, sending a man dressed completely in a streamlined black, a woman with shining red hair with a slight scowl on her face, and a man in a gold and scarlet suit of iron, icicles dripping off of it, running out. “Do you give up? Do you kneel before the might of Loki, God of Mischief?” he crowed, happy to have finally beat the Avengers, even if it was in something as petty and childish as a snowball fight.

  
He could almost hear the eye roll from the Man of Iron as his husband chuckled, bending to pick his shivering and sniffling little ones out of the snow, brushing the snow out of their wild curls. Captain America looked flabbergasted, confused that the blue man, who had changed so much, had reverted back to his desire to conquer so quickly. Natasha and Clint were brushing their own snow-covered child off, shooting the horned man calculating glances. Bruce, honestly, looked a bit green.

  
“Norns!” Loki said quietly, “Can’t anyone take a jest? You don’t have to kneel, I was joking. Isn’t that what one does among friends?”  
The eyes that were fixed on him ranged from terrified to angry. Slowly, the Jotunn raised his hands as a sign of surrender. “I didn’t mean it,” he whispered.

  
A heavy body barreled into him from behind, knocking him into a pile of fluff. It was quickly joined by others of various sizes and weights. Hands stuffed snow, not cold in the least against his already chilled exterior, under his cloak, while others tickled his sides or wrapped themselves around his middle and neck. Laughter, his own mingling with the varied cacophony of the others, filled the garden, making Loki feel incredibly lucky to be so loved.

  
A half hour later, the Avengers, the royals, and Asha, were gathered in Thor’s sitting scarlet and silver sitting room, cups of coffee, hot, spiced cider, hot chocolate, and mulled wine clasped in their hands, their fingers tingling from the cold. The All-Father sat beside his All-Mother, though did not touch him, his body radiating cold as it adjusted to the roaring fire and cup of lukewarm chocolate clasped in his claws. “Thank you,” he breathed, halting all other conversations. “Thank you for supporting Thor and myself. I...I know that it can’t be easy for you.”

  
Brows knitted and smiles faltered. Surprisingly, it was the Super Soldier who spoke. “It’s not surprising to any of us, Loki. You have changed. You have proven it time and time again. So what if you married your brother? You’re not related by blood, so it shouldn’t matter. You’re happy, Thor’s happy. That means we’re happy. Right guys?”

  
A chorus of “Of course”’s, “Yes”’s, and “Yeah, man”’s punctuated the gathering. The Jotunn bowed his head in his form of a blush, heat flooding his cheeks, though no one could see it. Trying to avoid the heartwarming looks that were being shot his way, he shifted his gaze towards the children. They were seated on the carpet, playing with their action figures, blocks, and Legos. The latter were provided by Freddy, Nat and Clint’s little redhead son, four months younger than the twins, but fascinated by the little colored bricks. Having stepped on a few of them earlier, his tough callouses only dulling the pain, he was not going allow Thor to bring any home from Midgard anytime soon.

  
A throat cleared. “Well, um...I, uh, we have something we’d like to share.” The voice belonged to a rather sheepish looking Doctor Banner, his hand wrapped around the small, Vanir woman’s shoulders. Her hand rested on his thigh, a look of all-consuming love written across her features. “We, Asha and I, are engaged!”

  
Joyful noise erupted through the room as everyone practically shouted their congratulations for the happy couple. Loki was beaming, so pleased that the two deserving beings in all the Nine had found each other. “Alright, alright!” Bruce gestured to the gathered adults to sit down and calm down. “I would like to propose a toast. Without our resident evil genius Jotunn All-Father and his hair-brained scheme to carry his brother and his sister-in-law’s children, Asha and I would not have met each other. We wouldn’t have had the opportunity to bond over our mutual love of medicine, grilled cheese sandwiches, the color purple, and a love and respect for our good and selfless blue friend. It was Fate. Fate and a certain Jotunn that brought us together. In fact, he brought us all together, if memory serves.” Bruce paused, picking up his mug of coffee and smiling widely at each person seated in the All-Mother’s sitting room. Slowly, the man that housed the Hulk raise his cup, and intoned, “And so, with out further ado, I offer this toast to Loki!”

  
“TO LOKI!” Mugs and tea cups were hoisted into the air as the resident Frost Giant bowed his head, blushing.


	12. Chapter 12

**The Far Reaches of Asgard**

  
“I don’t know what to think anymore, Thor. Stop pestering me!” The Jotunn hissed, trying to concentrate. He and his husband had been traversing the outlying cities and villages of the realm for the last two months. Not much of a honeymoon, in fact, they had never truly had one. Shortly after the Avenger’s left for Midgard, and Asha and Bruce went to Vanaheim to meet her family, the All-Father and All-Mother had decided to fix their problem with the brigands. The troublesome band had grown more bold and adventurous, traveling further inland, and even attacking Utgard during peak hibernation for the Jotunn. Unable to defend themselves, his brother’s people - _his_ people, would emerge from the winter to find their fields decimated, their homes pillaged and burned, and their once thriving empire would be back to square one.

  
Loki was not about to let that happen, not on his watch. Not when he had a nephew who was due in February, any day now really, and hundreds of others like him, in desperate need of nutrients and parental care. While Thor, with his new capabilities as All-Mother, healed the destroyed farmland, he was trying to figure out how the brigands were able to get away with the atrocities they were committing. He was certain that it had to do with the fog. It was so obviously seidr-driven and manipulated. Traces and residue were left behind, a trail of bread crumbs for him to find and follow, only to have them disappear into thin air, along with their maker. That meant that they had a sorcerer, or sorceress, and one of great power. Every magical being had a footprint, unless it was natural-born seidr, such as his own Jotunn seidr or his husband’s ability to control the storms. Every other piece of magic left a mark. Some were more difficult to trace than others and some wielders had the ability to manipulate that trace. He, personally, left no mark, the combination of his siedrs wiping his thumbprint from the earth, a perk of being All-Father. The magic-wielder for the brigands was powerful, but would be no match him and the power of his combined seidrs, once he finally deduced who the sorcerer was.

  
Sniffing, his sensitive nose was picking up traces of magic, clinging to buildings and streets. Never people. He always seemed to be just missing the caster, and it was driving him crazy.

  
His life-mate, as wonderful as he truly was, had taken to following his blue form, always a couple of steps behind, but keeping him well within his sight, overprotective to the last. His constant hovering was beginning to wear thin and, unfortunately, due to his lack of success with tracing the fog-seidr, the Jotunn had finally snapped. And now Thor was looking at him like a kicked puppy, his blue eyes stormy and huge, tears playing at the corners as he stepped back, jaw trembling.

  
Instantly regretting his anger, Loki opened his cool arms to the taller man who graciously stepped into them. Stroking his husbands hair as the other man’s bearded cheek rested on his cloaked shoulder, the All-Father whispered his apology.

  
“I am so sorry, Thor. It was wrong of me to snap at you. It is not your fault that I am getting nowhere with my search. It is just so frustrating because they are hurting our people and I have yet to be able to stop them. My scrying has been useless and I did not inherit Odin’s Sight. I feel like a failure and I feel so powerless and you’re always here, making you an easy target for my temper.”

  
The God of Thunder stiffened, sucking in a sharp breath, causing the Jotunn’s hands to still. “Thor?” he whispered, confused by the reaction. His husband, always willing to please, typically forgave him quickly, even, as he had recently learned, after his multiple attempts at ruling various people or destroying others. Even when he had intentionally harmed him, his brother, now his mate.

  
The blonde exhaled, hot against his chilled neck and exposed shoulder. “Lorelei,” he muttered darkly, raising his head.

  
“Excuse me?” The Jotunn’s blue brow furrowed. “ _Lorelei?_ ” He could feel a surge of jealousy rush through him.

  
Thor’s eyes, honest to a fault, looked back at his ruby orbs with a great sense of accomplishment and knowledge. The taller man nodded. “Lorelei. I recognize the trace. She pulsed all of it through me after our wedding, remember? I was trying to put the pieces together, and then it hit me: I have only been touched by four seidr wielders. Father, Mother, you - all obviously innocent, and that awful woman. The sorceress you seek is Lorelei.”

  
Loki looked back, flabbergasted. “The woman who worked for the Council, who tried to strip _you_ of _my_ Power? _She_ is behind this?”  The Thunder God nodded once more, solemnly. “Most definitely. She’s our link. We find her, we stop the marauders. It’s that simple.”

 

  
“Well,” the God of Mischief smirked, revealing his sharp, white fangs, “Let’s go pay her a visit, shall we?”

  
“Well, that’s all good in theory. As of now, no one knows where she is. I just know that she is responsible for the fog.” The blonde’s face fell as if ashamed by his short-comings. Loki smirk softened to a smile, his thumb running from his husband’s soft cheek to his coarse beard lovingly.

  
“You have done more than I have been able to do in the last two months, Thor. Do not fret. We will just have to get her to come to us.” His eyes twinkled mischievously.

  
“Just what did you have in mind?” The thunder god quirked an eyebrow roguishly.  
__________________________________

  
**Frigga’s Sitting Room, Bilskirnir, Asgard**

  
“With Aiko’s immense output over the last few months, it is about time we had another opening, wouldn’t you think?”

  
The royal couple had just arrived back at the palace after their two months spent traversing not only the edges of Asgardian society and soil, but the outskirts of most of the rest of the Nine with little success besides healing and providing aid, and all her youngest son seemed to be interested in was throwing a party. Which was strange because Loki avoided the public eye like the plague. He hated the way the eyes of the populace followed his every move, scrutinizing him due to the obvious changes that had occurred since his return from exile. _Maybe Thor has helped him to see his inner light, to accept that he has not changed from that little boy I tutored on my knee, wide-eyed and eager to please and to learn_. She smiled at the memories, missing those precious moments.

  
Unable to resist, she swept Torsten and Daryn off the floor, where they were building and subsequently destroying towers of blocks, and settled them on to her lap. While their father and bearer had been away, she and Aiko had cared for them, watching them grow and mature away from their parents’ watchful gaze. Thor, a broad arm wrapped around the blue man’s slimmer shoulders, smiled at the sight of his children on their grandmother’s lap.

  
“Do you think you have enough material to create another exhibit, my Child of Love?” the Jotunn asked, smiling at his child who was seated opposite him idly flipping through her camera, deleting pictures that left something to be desired.

  
The beautiful blue eyes left the camera screen that was propped in her lap and twinkled up at her father. “Probably, I have a lot of photos. It could be neat to do an exhibit of photography. Asgard has never seen anything quite like that before, right? I would need a couple of weeks to be sure that I could come up with a theme and to be sure that none of them are too intimate. But, yeah, it’s definitely doable!”

  
“Excellent!” Loki smiled broadly. “I am looking forward to it!”

  
Frigga shook her head knowingly. He was up to something. She did not know what it was, but there was something cooking in his mind. She just hoped that he had thought it through.


	13. Chapter 13

**The Royal Gallery, Asgard**

  
The evening was filled with colors. The gowns, the flowers, the capes. The pictures. The populace of Asgard as well as visiting dignitaries from Vanaheim, Nifleheim, and Midgard were treated to a look at the ruling family and their close friends. Aiko had called it “Beyond the Glamour.” There were pictures of Thor changing diapers, Loki with one twin on each shoulder their small hands grasped around his horns, Frigga with her hair tumbling down her back, Aiko with paint on her forehead and in her dark brown hair. The picture Thor had snapped of him and his young bed-mates the morning after they had announced their plans to wed to their children was displayed prominently. Copies of the pictures from the Midgard gallery in Avenger’s Tower were also on display, catching the superheroes at moments of weakness. Updated pictures of the family and their Midgardian friends were featured further back in the gallery. There were pictures from Christmas. The All-Father and All-Mother entering Frigga’s sitting room with their arms around each other, the twins and Freddy playing with their Avenger’s action figures, the group of them covered in snow smiling and laughing as they piled on top of an obscured Jotunn, only his horns and horned feet visible.

  
There was no doubt that his daughter was talented. Every picture seemed so alive, so full of life. Every time he turned away from a picture, he expected to return to a new image. Photography was amazing, the Jotunn decided, and he wished he had more time to enjoy it. Instead, both he and the All-Mother were busy scouring the large space for a certain enchantress with little success.

  
He sighed, turning slowly, resisting the urge to stroke one of his horns, a habit that he had acquired over the years. A tell for when he was nervous, upset, or uncomfortable. The All-Father showed no weakness in the sight of his subjects, whether they accepted him in the position or not. It was something he had learned from his adopted father. So many of the man’s memories involved an unemotional ruling followed by time in Frigga’s understanding arms. The Jotunn wished that he had known this about the man before his passing - they would have gotten along so much better with a mutual understanding in the place of the general mistrust and hatred that had dictated their interactions.

  
“Loki,” Thor whispered in his ear, tearing the Jotunn from his thoughts. “Look who just arrived.”

  
His ruby gaze swiftly flew to the main doors to find a woman with her flaming red hair pulled to the top of her head. Her royal blue gown was form-fitting and a bit too tight, emphasizing her expansive bust. “Someone is trying a bit too hard, don’t you think?” the Frost Giant smirked. “Shall we greet our guest?”

  
The two figures slowly and graciously wound their way through the throng, stopping to acknowledge the nobles who addressed them, or, in most cases, just Thor. While the slight stung the Jotunn a bit, he was glad that his husband kept his slim, cold hand clasped in his larger one, a statement to say the least. They were no longer separate beings - they were life-mates. They were one.

  
While Thor was sidetracked by yet another well-wishing couple, Loki’s ruby eyes followed the figure swathed in blue as she wound through the crowd, seemingly admiring the photographs. She chatted briefly with the elder lords of the Council of the Nine, the men who had rather ruined his wedding, not that he was bitter. He squeezed his husband’s hand. He had gotten what he had wanted anyway.

  
What her interactions did tell him, though, was that the sorceress was certainly someone who associated with people of power. She would have to, of course, in order to think that she could dupe the royal family of Asgard. But the men she aligned with were old and rather stuck in their bigoted ways. They had made their distaste for him and the immense power he possessed very clear. The woman was powerful and they thought she could take him down.

  
As Lorelei moved off, Loki murmured, “Thor, I believe that Lord Hildegardson and his lovely wife have just arrived. You had said that you wished to speak with him about the new park...”

  
The blonde man turned to face his partner. “Oh, of course Dearest.” He smiled smoothly and returned his gaze to the couple in front of him. “If you’ll excuse us...”

  
As the two men walked away, the Jotunn muttered, “Dearest? Seriously? You have never addressed me in that manner.”

  
Thor leaned in, his heat causing the thinner man to shiver. “Yes, but what I typically call you shouldn’t be repeated in public.”

  
The blue man cackled, his rich ‘ehehehe’ causing his counterpart to laugh boisterously. “Truly, you oaf, my name would be enough, just the same.”

  
“Yes, well, your name most certainly wouldn’t have gotten them to leave us alone. Any sign of affection between us and people part like the winter storms of Jotunnheim on April 1.”

  
“Oh, that reminds me: Will you be coming with Aiko and I for our annual visit? My - um, our - newest nephew was born last month and I am sure Helblindi would appreciate a visit from his new brother-in-law.”

  
“Let’s focus on one thing at a time. We need to catch these brigands first.”

  
“Of course, _Dearest_ , anything you say.” Loki rolled his eyes, a motioned mirrored by his life-mate.

  
The couple were able to corner the enchantress in the back of the gallery by a photograph of Loki and Thor reading a bedtime story to Daryn and Torsten by the light of a roaring fire, the shadows dancing along the silvery green walls of the nursery.

  
Smirking slightly, the Jotunn intoned, “Hello.”

  
The red-haired woman spun around quickly with a small squeak, her eyes wide and a bit frightened. Regaining her composure, she swept into a low curtsy, head bowed, but not enough to hide the ample bosom and cleavage that spilled over the top of her gown. Loki rolled his eyes at the sight and gave his husband’s hand a none too gentle squeeze, sighing with exasperation. Thor certainly enjoyed breasts, as was evident in his not-so gentle ministrations to his own all those years ago as well as his rather blatant stare at the other woman. They would have words later.

  
“Lady Lorelei,” Loki began, cutting to the chase, “It is a _pleasure_ to see you here. My husband and I have been wanting to speak with you.”

  
The woman straightened, rolling her shoulders back defiantly with a flip of her hair. She cocked her head flirtatiously, “Oh, my Lord? Of all the matters of importance and you wish to speak to a simple woman?” 

The Jotunn smirked, revealing some of his fangs. The sorceress blanched. “Why, Lady Lorelei, we all know that you are _far_ from simple.” He turned away from her still form and laced his voice with siedr. “I suggest that you follow me.” He turned, hardening his features, “My husband will not ask as nicely.”

  
He continued through the crowd, knowing that the deceitful woman was trailing behind him, Thor and his massive muscles following in silent menace. Discretely exiting the gallery by a side door, the small party found themselves in the monumental main hall of Asgard, where every major event of the two men’s histories unfolded. The All-Father climbed the steps of the dais and took his rightful seat on the throne of Asgard, where Odin had sat for all of his decisions and felt the weight of his station for the first time come crashing onto his slim shoulders.

  
He sighed, and looked down at the rather small woman, his blank mask covering his face. “Lady Lorelei, as you are an intelligent woman, I will cut to the chase. We know that you are helping the brigands.”

  
The words cut through the silence of the grand hall, echoing and rebounding despite his soft speech. “That is a crime against your country and your people. What say you?”

  
The red-head stood taller. “You have no proof. I am innocent in this matter. Why would I help brigands?”

  
Thor shifted angrily but made no move, his blue eyes fixed on Loki. “We found traces of your seidr at every site of an attack. You are a powerful sorceress, very talented, as was evident when you tortured your King two months past.” He paused as the woman raised her chin higher, fear flickering through her eyes. “While it may appear to be my word against yours, I assure you that others have confirmed the fingerprint of the fog you have created. In fact, some of it has been extracted and can easily be matched to anything that your seidr has touched, including the man standing behind you.”

  
The woman’s face slipped, shock coating her features. “How...?”

  
“It’s rather simple, but I fear that it would take too much of our precious time to enlighten you,” the God of Mischief lied, hoping that she’d believe him. Her eyes widened, the whites showing. He continued, “Now, we just want to know _why_ you did it.” The Jotunn leaned back, trying to appear non-threatening.

  
“You’re just going to kill me, so why don’t you just do it?” Lorelei spat back, furious.

  
“Simple: We want to end the reign of terror you have helped support by the least violent means necessary. Why kill people who are acting out of desperation or under duress? No one has to die, unless they bring it about themselves.”

  
Thor leaned over the small woman and murmured threateningly, “Let’s not resort to that, shall we?”

  
“Yuh-yes, my Lord,” she stammered under the King’s glare and menacing figure. “I-I don’t want to die, though it would be preferable to torture.” She faced the blue figure reclined in the high seat. “But let’s not resort to that!”

  
The woman whipped around, hands clawed, her orange siedr playing along her finger tips. She slammed her hands into Thor’s chest - and nothing happened. She shrieked and attacked again, throwing herself at the God of Thunder.

  
The Jotunn cocked his brow at his husband who was now laughing. “You think that we would not calculate a retaliation? That we would not be prepared?”

  
One of the Thunderer’s large hands clamped the woman’s wrists together forcefully as he chuckled, watching his life-mate gracefully descend from the throne. “What now, Brother?” he asked as the woman struggled and screamed her rage.

  
“Well,” Loki intoned calmly, placing a clawed hand on the woman’s thrashing shoulder. “First, we remove her seidr.” A torrent of orange flew over her body, manifesting in an orange ball of flame, which Loki pulled out of her chest, holding it tenderly in his hand. Lorelei slumped, exhausted as her power was wrenched from her very being.

  
Kneeling beside the now sobbing form, the Jotunn tossed the ball of magic from hand to hand. “Would you like to talk now?”

  
“YOU **MONSTER**!” she shrieked from Thor’s arms. “HOW _DARE_ YOU?”

  
“I’ll take that as a ‘no,’ then,” the All-Father said. He produced a gold cuff from thin air and forced the seidr into it. “Let’s try a different tactic, shall we?”

  
He placed the cuff on the marble floor with a resounding clink and reached for the enraged woman, frost coating his palm. Before his claws so much as touched her skin she relented. “No! NO, please! I will tell you everything.”

  
Loki dropped his hand and Thor released his hold on the girl who crumpled to the floor, crying. The God of Mischief took this opportunity to whisk the cuff onto the thin, pale forearm of the enchantress, placing a tracker in the metal and sealing it.

  
“Why are you giving this to me?” she whispered through her gasping breaths.

  
“As a sign of hope and goodwill. You will have the same opportunities as I did in my imprisonment. You can earn the right to your seidr and I can take it back if I feel that you have squandered it.”

  
“Th-thank you,” she sniffled, her fingers tracing the cuff and the source of her power.

  
She slowly sat up, brushing off her skirt and it pooled around her sinuous limbs. “She came to me years ago, shortly after your return from exile, All-Father. Another plan, Aslaug’s, was in place and failed. Then came your pregnancy and I couldn’t harm the children. Not innocent beings. You have gained too much power, or so she said. You were hurting the realm. And I agreed with her, especially after what you did to my sister.”

  
“Your sister?” he whispered, scanning his memories for a woman that he had wronged.

  
“Amora.” The woman said, a hard edge to her voice. Thor shivered, remembering the results of the havoc she had wreaked upon them. “You killed her, didn’t you?”

  
“No,” Loki whispered. “No, I gave her a new life. She is quite happy, from what I’ve been told. She’s being courted by a wonderful man.”

  
The small red-head gasped, sucking in breath like it was flying from the room. “Wh-when I didn’t hear from her, I-I thought...” Her large, tear-filled eyes met his steady ruby gaze. “Can I see her?”

  
“Maybe, if you cooperate. I should warn you: She is a new woman and won’t remember you or any aspect of her life here.”

  
The woman returned her gaze to the ground with a soft sigh. “I would have liked to say goodbye.”

  
“I am sorry you were not given the opportunity,” the Jotunn intoned kindly, smiling gently.

  
The woman shuddered again. “I traveled with the robbing band to distract you, make you weak so that you could be over-thrown. _She_ said you were unfit and unwise. A monster of ill-repute. I should never have listened to her. She was so wrong.”

  
“Do you know their next place of attack?” Thor prompted, growing impatient.

  
“They mean to strike in two days time on Midgard. A small town at the top of that world. A paradise on earth, she said.” The woman looked up at him, her eyes wide and innocent. “I’m sorry, my Lord. I don’t know anything else.”

  
“Thank you, Lady Lorelei. That is very helpful. Now, please return to the festivities and continue about your business. We will meet you on Midgard in two days time.”

  
He rose slowly. “Wait, my Lord All-Father! I’ll be killed if they discover that I am without my power. They will kill me!”

  
“It’s a good thing we’re going to stop them before the attack then,” Thor smiled, already aware of his life-mate’s brilliant plan. “You will be safe. We swear it.”


	14. Chapter 14

  
**Loki’s Rooms, Bilskirnir - Asgard**

  
Loki stood in the refreshing breeze on his balcony, his eyes watching the stars as they danced before him. Tonight was a small victory in his book: He, along with the All-Mother, had found a way to put an end to the realm’s troublesome brigands, hopefully for good without the use of their enchantress, and his beloved daughter had had a very successful gallery opening.

  
_After their little chat, the royal couple and their guest returned to the festivities. Loki made a bee-line for his child, the woman who had saved him, and wrapped his cool arms around her waist. “You are so amazing,” he whispered into her hair, placing a gentle kiss there. “I am sorry that I haven’t been around. I promise I will do better in the future.”_

  
_Aiko spun around in his lose hold, laughing. “Don’t make promises you know you can’t keep, Blue.” She kissed his lined cheek lovingly. “I won’t hold it against you - You’re a very important man.”_

  
_He hugged her tighter, missing the days when it was just the two of them, no responsibilities, in that little cell on Midgard. He was grateful for everything he had, every opportunity that had been granted to him, but he missed the simpler days._

  
“Loki?” Thor’s rich voice entered his thoughts, scattering them to the wind.

  
“Outside,” he called back, pulling his robe tighter around his body, relishing in the easy slide of the silk over his sensitive ridges. Warm arms embraced him from behind.

  
“Why you insist on standing out here in the frigid cold, I will never understand,” the God of Thunder chuckled. He rested his hot cheek against the Jotunn’s cool Bergelmir’s Tears, his beard scratching the rough skin gently.

  
The blue man sighed. “It brings me peace. I feel so frazzled of late and to look out at the stars, to feel the breeze on my skin, it reminds me of a very different time in my life.”

Suddenly, he turned to face his life-mate. “Do you think that what I did today was right? Threatening her with my Touch for information?”

  
Thor stepped back, tilting his head slightly. “It was effective. And you would have healed her any way.”

  
“Yes, but she didn’t know and it makes me feel like the monster I am.” His ruby eyes were wide and filled with doubt.

  
“No,” the King whispered. “You acted like my father would have. In fact, you comforted her and treated her kindly, which is something he would not have done. I believe that shocked her into revealing more than she may have originally intended.” The blonde man smiled broadly. “You know I’m right.”

  
Loki smirked back at the man who had been his brother. “Yes, yes. You are right. And now we know where they are headed.”

  
Large arms pulled his slim body against the chiseled expanse in front of him. “And,” Thor rumbled, nuzzling the scar he had made above his husband’s collarbone, “I think we should celebrate.”  
_________________________________________

  
Loki woke feeling different. Strange but not ill. Just different. He couldn’t put a finger on the sensation and so he eased himself out of Thor’s hot embrace and went to bathe, allowing his husband to continue to sleep.

  
The previous evening had been nothing short of what should have happened all through their non-existent honeymoon. They couldn’t have ‘gotten acquainted’ in that fashion in a tent on the outskirts of the Realms of the Nine with the Royal Guard camped outside their sad excuse for a door.

  
The Jotunn smiled as he scrubbed, amazed by his husband’s eagerness to lie with him. And lie with him. And lie with him. His love seemed to have no bounds.

  
His hands ran along his abdomen, worrying the Jotunn ridges that resided there when he felt something. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time.  
______________________________________________

  
**Frigga’s Chambers - Asgard**

  
“I’m sorry that I am calling so early, Mother. It’s just...I don’t know when we will be leaving for Midgard and...” he sighed, frustrated at his own insecurities, “I can’t tell Thor. Not yet.”

  
Frigga titled her chin, her curiosity peaked. She was sitting in her dressing gown in her secondary, private parlor. Her thick, golden locks were loose, tumbling down her back and catching the light of the small fire that burned in the brazier. “What is it, Loki? What is troubling you?”

  
He looked down at his hands, which he was wringing rather rapidly. He gulped, a lump built of fear rising in his throat. He choked out, “I’m pregnant.”

  
At the statement, it hit him, making it so real. Emotion crashed over him and he slumped to the floor, curling into the position he had sat in for hours on end in his cell. His knees pulled up, his forehead rested on them, and his arms wrapped around his horns, grounding him as he cried.

  
A warm, gentle hand lighted on his bare arm as the other rubbed the ridged on his back. “Oh, Loki,” Frigga’s sweet and loving voice murmured, “That is wonderful news. I am so happy for you and Thor. Please, tell me why you’re so upset.”

  
He sniffled and raise his head. Fixing his watery gaze on the woman who would always be his mother, he blubbered, “I’m not supposed to get pregnant. We’re not supposed to work. I-I can’t contaminate Thor’s noble blood with my own. Muh-my nature. I-I can’t.” He shook his head back and forth in disbelief and in shock.

  
Frigga pulled the tight ball of her youngest son’s body into her arms, kissing his head. “Loki, what makes you say such things? Any child brought forth from a bond as perfect and pure as yours is bound to be an amazing being.”

 

“But,” the Jotunn mumbled into the woman’s chest, “Wuh-what if it’s like me?”

  
The woman squeezed his harder into her chest. “Then we shall be so blessed. So blessed. Think of all the wonderful things you have done, what you have wrought. Change is coming, full of hope and promise. Your child will have a place in this world and in any other. It is a time of acceptance and forgiveness - thanks to Aiko, thanks to Thor, and thanks to you, my brilliant boy.”

  
The couple sat for a while, the blonde comforting the horned man and allowing him to cry himself out. When Loki finally sat up and pulled away, he looked less terrified and even gave a small smile. “Thank you, Mother.”

  
“Of course, Darling,” she whispered, rubbing his cheek with the pad of her thumb. “Now, how far along are you?”

  
He inhaled through his nose and swallowed. “I’m not sure. I just sensed it this morning - I woke feeling strange, but -” He bowed his head in his own version of a blush. “Thor and I haven’t been very - active - and it would be too early to register anything if it was...recent. I am guessing that I conceived on or soon after our wedding night. But I don’t look or feel three months pregnant. I just feel...different.”

  
Frigga smiled. “Well, the good Doctor Banner and Asha should be told and you should have a check-up. Maybe the baby’s biology is going to affect the pregnancy and it’s symptoms. You haven’t been feeling ill?”

  
“No,” the Jotunn replied. “I’ve felt absolutely perfect until this morning. I just felt like something was off, something was not the same.” His gaze shot to his mother’s grey orbs. “Please, don’t tell Thor. Not until after I see Bruce. I-I need to know more.”

  
“Of course, Loki,” Frigga smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of ruining the surprise. But, please...don’t do anything rash. This baby is a gift, wrought of pure love. Know that it will be loved, regardless of anything and everything. Just like you, my precious gift.”

  
“Thank you, Mother,” Loki murmured, embracing the shorter woman tightly as tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. “I will remember your words. I promise.”  
_____________________________________________

  
After his chat with his mother, he had returned to his sitting room and was greeted by the comforting snore of his life-mate. Thor was still asleep.

  
Quietly, he clicked over to his bookshelves and removed a book with a damaged cover, running his clawed fingers over the holes that they had created. He wandered back to his favorite arm chair and opened the worn volume.

  
_Chapter 20 Reproduction_

  
He skipped ahead, having already read the information regarding his biological make-up and the cursed heats. His ruby orbs found the subheading “Jotunn Pregnancy” and he began reading there.

  
_Jotunn pregnancy is different from the pregnancies of the rest of the Nine. Instead of lasting nine months, as is typical of the Aesir, the Midgardian, the Vanir, and Elf-kind, the pregnancy lasts for a full twelve months. This is due to a few reasons. It can be potentially harmful for the child if born during the winter hibernation, when the Jotunn are at their least active and food is relatively scarce. By carrying through the winter months, the child is more likely to survive. Also, the Jotunn develop at a slower rate than the rest of the bipedal races of the Nine, not reaching maturity until 100 years of age and not reaching sexual maturity until they’re 800 to 1,000._

  
 _The pregnancy itself is divided into trimesters, as is typical of the other races. However, each trimester consists of four months instead of the typical three. The bearer will usually not begin to show before the fourth month, if not later, depending on his diet, exercise, stress-level, environment, etc. The Jotunn only gain baby weight, and, as the fetus matures slowly, the weight gain does not come quickly until after the eighth month and through the third trimester. The size of the baby determines much about the pregnancy, with smaller infants causing fewer problems or complications. For most Jotunn, they will birth a child that it approximately two to three feet in length and 60 to 70 pounds, though smaller infants are becoming more common due to the lack of resources on the dying planet. (Like me,_ he thought, reflecting on his peculiar size _)._

  
_It should be noted that a Jotunn bearer can experience everything that a non-Jotunn mother would: morning sickness, mood swings, strange dreams, swelling. Since the Jotunn appear male, it should be noted that breasts will develop through the pregnancy staring around the fourth or fifth month. It is also during this time that many Jotunn bearers prefer to be addressed as female, though it may not always be the case._

  
_The birth..._

  
Loki sighed, closing the book firmly and placing it back on the shelf. Nine more months of carrying a babe, a child that he never thought would come, a creature of his own blood. But the babe would also be of his beloved Thor. He could not end it, not something that carried his husband’s DNA. Who knows, the babe may not inherit anything more than his powers over the ice and he was getting worked up over nothing. But still, this...surprise...was not something he had ever wanted, much less planned for.

  
“Loki?” His life-mate’s sleepy voice called from the bedchamber.

  
“In the sitting room,” he called back as he walked to the bedroom door and peaked in on his husband in his golden and naked glory. “We need to make preparations for tomorrow. Since the attack will be on Midgard, I figured that our friends, the Avengers, may wish to join our cause. I’m going to go to them after breakfast. You should rally our troops here - not too many, mind you. And only our most trusted.”

  
“The Lady Sif and the Warriors Three it is then,” Thor smiled, stretching in the sunlight, causing the Jotunn to wish that they had absolutely nothing to do today, or tomorrow, or for the next month or so. The muscular blonde fixed the slimmer blue man in his piercing gaze. “Is there something else? Something you’re not telling me?”

  
Loki laughed, trying to hide his insecurity. “No, no, Thor. Nothing. I’m just a bit nervous and excited to bring this to an end, that’s all.”

  
The God of Thunder cocked an eyebrow, not believing but allowing the moment to pass. “If you say so, Loki. Just know that you can tell me anything.”

  
“And I do, you oaf,” the Jotunn chortled, stroking the golden strands of beard on his lover’s tanned cheek. “Now, let’s get going. There is much that needs to be prepared.”


	15. Chapter 15

  
**Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
Loki beamed down onto the familiar launch pad, thankful for the lack of heat on the early March day. The wind of the city whipped about him, cradling his body and whirling his cloak in a frenzy. His arrival was not planned, and so he hoped that the Avengers were not away on a mission or, as was the case this time of year, vacation. Lights appeared to be on in the penthouse, so someone was home. The question was: _who?_

  
Struggling a bit against the strong wind, he pulled the glass door open with a clawed hand and allowed it to slam behind him. Turning about, he found the Man of Iron with his secretary, a Miss Pepper Potts if he recalled correctly, sitting in the lounge.

  
“Hey Rock of Ages! What brings you here, sans Wannabe Zeus? Trouble in paradise?”

  
“How did you know?” Loki asked. “Were you already warned?”

  
The last part of his statement caused the shorter man to get up and come to him, giving his arm a playful punch. “Tough luck man. I’m sorry to hear that you and Thor are having a rough time. You can crash here - Just don’t frost anything. I just got Capsicle to open the freezer without fainting.”

  
“WHAT?!” Loki gasped, eyes wide, taking a couple of urgent steps forward. “Who told you that?”

  
A quizzical look crossed the inventor’s face. “You did. Just now.”

  
“No, no,” Loki chuckled at his own lack of knowledge regarding Midgardian slang. “I have yet to master your peculiar form of communication Stark. There is no ill-will between my life-mate and I. We are quite happy.” He resisted the urge to place a hand over his flat abdomen. “I am here because we have received information stating that there will be an attack by a rather vicious band of reavers who are going to attack Paradise, Alaska sometime tomorrow. We would like your help and the help of all the Avengers, if you are willing.”

  
“Paradise, Paradise...why does that name sound familiar?” Tony scratched his chin.

  
“That is where my prison is located. It’s where Aiko was born,” Loki whispered softly. The bandits were trying to hit him where it would hurt. While he had never interacted with the residents of the town besides Aiko and her mother, he felt like the attack was a very blatant punch to his gut.

  
“Oh, yeah!” Tony scrambled back over the sofa, causing the tall, blonde woman to give a small shriek. “Let me call the gang. We’ve been anxious for some action. Victor von Doom’s been getting rather dull. A band of unruly brigands could be exactly what we need. JARVIS! Tell the Avengers ‘Assemble’ for me, Buddy!”

  
_Right away, Sir_ , the AI replied.

  
Pepper Potts stood and smoothed her skirt. “Could I get you anything, Prince Loki? Water? Tea?”

  
“Tea would be lovely, thank you Miss Potts.” The Jotunn smiled, lips firmly closed as he sat in an arm chair. “And please, call me Loki.”

  
The woman smiled and bustled into the adjoining kitchen, her stiletto heels clicking on the polished slate floor and over the thick pane of glass that covered his outline.

  
“So, Big Guy, what have you been up to since, you know?” Tony waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  
The blue man rolled his ruby eyes at the other man. “We have been rather busy, Stark, but not with what you’re implying. These robbers have been plaguing us for years now and Thor and I have been tracking them through the last couple of months.”

  
“What a honeymoon,” the brunette muttered. “Sounds like a great time.”

  
“It wasn’t.” The Jotunn was thankful for the ding of the elevator, not at all enjoying the direction that his conversation with the millionaire was going.

  
“LOKI!” He snapped his head around to find Clint and Natasha, little Freddy swinging between them, giggling. The redheaded assassin bent to her laughing child and said, “Look who came to visit, Freddie! It’s Uncle Loki!”

  
“BLUE!” The boy grinned from ear to ear, pleased to see the tall man.

  
He rose, opening his arms to the little family. “Hello!” He knew that he was grinning like a loon, ruffling the ginger curls of the five year old as he kissed his mother on her cheek and hugged his father tightly. “How are you?”

  
“GREAT!” Freddy exclaimed. “Can Tory and Daryn come visit, Uncle Blue? PLEASE?”

  
“I believe that they can, Freddy. Maybe next month? They will be very excited to see you again.” He smiled up at the pair of assassins. “Would you be interested in a mission, Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton?”

  
The spark that lit in the two mortals’ eyes told him everything he needed to hear.

  
The elevator dinged again, bringing the rest of the original team to the penthouse. Bruce and Steve both smiled and embraced the Jotunn warmly. Asha also arrived, giving her friend a kiss on his Bergelmir’s Tears and asking after Thor and the rest of his family.

  
The niceties complete and tea spread for everyone, Loki sighed and began. “Thor and I are in need of your assistance, if you are willing to give it.”

  
A chorus of consent filled the room as everyone agreed to help without even hearing anything more.

  
“So, what are we agreeing to exactly?” asked the man out of time, ever the practical commander.

  
“There is going to be an attack on Paradise, Alaska tomorrow by a band of brigands from the rest of the Nine. They have been plaguing Asgard, Jotunnheim, and Vanaheim for a few years now, pillaging and destroying as they go. We never were able to determine when or where they would strike until it was too late, but, thankfully, Thor and I were able to procure some of their plans. We are hoping to bring about a swift and peaceful resolution, but I fear that it might not be the case. The person who gave us our intel made it very clear that the reavers are attacking the Nine to make me weak, bring about my demise.” He paused, gulping slightly. “I fear that my presence may enrage them further.”

  
“Ok, so we are there as back-up and protection for the civilians and for you. Am I correct?” Captain America reiterated.

  
“Yes, if it is not too much to ask,” Loki murmured, nodding his horned head.

  
The soldier stood, his presence becoming commanding. “Okay. We need to be on the quinjet folks at 23:00 hours. Make sure everything is in working order. Tony, grab something for light - Alaska is dark this time of year. Don’t forget the first aid kit, Bruce. We’re going to need warm clothes and air support. I’ll leave that to you, Clint and Natasha. I’ll get the rest of the supplies. Alright Avengers, let’s suit up!”

  
The group filed past him, slapping his cool shoulder and telling him that they’d meet him in Alaska. As Bruce passed him, Loki grabbed the man’s arm gently. “Bruce, I’d like a word, if possible.”

  
The man who housed the Hulk gave him a curious look but nodded. “Of course. Come to my lab. I have to grab the kit anyway.”

  
The two men had the elevator to themselves, whizzing down to the floor that the Jotunn knew like the back of his scarred hand. Exiting the elevator, the two briskly walked down the hallway and entered the lab at the end, across from the room with the pregnancy throne, in amiable silence. The blue man licked his lips and sighed as the door closed behind them. “Bruce,” he whispered. “Are you ready for round two?”

  
“This is hardly my first rodeo, Loki. Alaska is new though. I’ve always wanted to go,” the doctor chuckled.

  
“No, that’s not what I meant,” he murmured, picking up the mortal’s warm hand and pressing it to his abdomen. Bruce’s brown eyes widened, his jaw dropping open. “I-I think I’m pregnant. C-could you confirm it for me, Doctor?”

  
“Wow. I-I don’t know what to say.” The man, followed by the Jotunn, exited the lab and entered the check-up room. Loki bit into his wrist as Bruce dug out the funnel. “I guess,” he chuckled, “it’s a good thing that I kept this, right?”

  
The blue man smiled tightly, his nerves and anxieties regarding his potential state rushing back to the surface. “Yes. What good luck.” He watched as his navy life force flow into the vials, feeling anxious. “Is there anything else you need from me?”

  
“How far along are you? A month or two?” The mortal doctor asked, still smiling as he prepared to run his tests. “Maybe we should do a full physical.”

  
“Sure,” Loki consented. “But I think I’m almost three months, first trimester. I feel fine, just a bit...off. That’s why I checked this morning and there it was. A tiny pulse of purple seidr.” He placed a hand over the location of the magic, wanting to feel it again to confirm his fears.

  
“Okay, that’s fine. Let’s take your basic measurements. Climb on up.” The greying man grabbed a clipboard and pencil, ready to begin.

  
“Height: 6’ 9.” No surprise there. Weight: 184 lbs. No change. Just like last time. Okay, blood pressure, heart rate, temperature. Other place.”

  
Loki shucked off his loincloth, wrapping his cloak about his body protectively but not really caring. Bruce had seen it all and more, and he trusted the mortal man with his life. He grabbed his left bicep tightly, cutting off the circulation for the doctor as he listened and took notes. As the time neared, he swung his legs into the stirrups without flinching, allowing first his anus and then his canal to be breached. A gloved hand pressed along his abdomen, measuring his uterus. Finally, the exam drew to a close and the Jotunn was able to redress. “Anything I should be worried about, Bruce?” he asked, keeping his own fears to himself for the moment.

  
“No,” the man said with a shake of his head. “Everything looks pretty good. I am a bit worried about you being three months along, though. There should be some kind of change. No urges for the bathroom, no aversion to certain foods or craving for others, no weird dreams? No chest sensitivity? It’s all rather peculiar.”

  
Loki shook his head. “I think, Doctor Banner, that it has to do with me. With my species. The...babe...is part me as well as part Thor. What if I am going to endure a typical Jotunn pregnancy because the child is part Jotunn? What if it is a monster like it’s bearer?”

  
Bruce’s brow furrowed. “This wasn’t planned, was it?”

  
The blue man shook his horns, fighting back tears. “I never wanted to pass my form to another. I was meant to be incapable of creating a creature of mixed race. The only half-Jotunn in our history was Odin All-Father, and his bearer took the form of an Aesir woman before conception. No one knew of his Jotunn blood, until he told me before his death.” His ruby eyes rose to meet those of the mortal man. “I’m so idiotic. Thor is the God of Fertility - surprising, I know. Neither of us thought about contraception, I just assumed that my species and form would keep me from conceiving.” He sighed, resting his head in his hands. “What have I done?”

  
A warm hand touched his shoulder, shaking him gently. “Loki. You have done nothing wrong. You love Thor and he loves you and that love has manifested itself in a child. There is nothing wrong with you, or, from what I can tell, your child. It will be loved, regardless, because it is a part of you and a part of Thor. Besides, we should check the tests before we fall into despair.”

  
Loki nodded, watching the shorter man go. He sucked in a deep breath, calming himself. This child was Thor’s and, as Thor’s, he would bear it. He could always transfigure it and raise it Aesir, as he was himself. Unknowing of his true nature. He shook his head, gripping a horn tightly. NO! He couldn’t do that. Not to his own child. It would not live as he had, fearful of it’s true self and feeling ugly within it’s own body. It would be a perfect being, etherial and just like his husband in every way. Except, maybe, with his own intelligence and his seidr.

  
The mortal reentered the room, clearing his throat. “Congratulations, Loki. You are pregnant.” He smiled softly. “I’m so very happy for you and Thor.”

  
Loki beamed, his decision made. “Thank you. I-I am happy too.” He rose from the pregnancy throne, paper crackling beneath him, and strode to Bruce, wrapping him in a hug. “Please, don’t tell anyone. Not with the brigands to deal with. I refuse to be sidelined by my husband’s worrying and ridiculous overprotective streak.”

  
Bruce grinned back. “We can’t have that now, can we? How about I see you before you leave for Jotunnheim. Think you’ll tell him by then?”

  
“Probably. He is the All-Mother and he already knows that I am hiding something from him. I pretty sure that he’ll figure it out.” He turned and headed for the elevator. “I guess I’ll be seeing you soon. Thank you again, Bruce. For everything.”

  
“My pleasure, Loki,” the other man called back, a large smile still plastered on his face.  
____________________________________

  
**Paradise, Alaska - Midgard**

  
Alaska was freezing cold. The wind was filled with small flakes of ice and snow that continually pulled him hither and thither, sneaking into his warmest boots and cloak and making him regret not wearing thicker padding under his armor. It reminded him of Jotunnheim and it’s vast wastes of the dead kingdom. No light except the eery glow of a dying sun and a vast number of stars that glinted coldly through the clouds.

  
His husband, wearing nothing but his typical loincloth, was delighted. His head was throw back, his hair loose and curling around his shoulders and horns. His arms were opened wide, embracing the winter in it’s terrible glory. He was so beautiful.

  
Thor shook his head as the image brought back memories long past. Memories of a young man who loved the sun, the heat of summer was his favorite part of the year. Who complained of the dark and cold, loathing anything that kept him from the sun. Except the rain because, as he found out years later, it reminded the pale man of him. The Loki that he had grown up with had spent his winters curled up in an armchair, fur rug around his thin shoulders and a thick book in his lap, a fire roaring in the nearby fireplace. This Loki was a wild and fierce Jotunn, embracing the storm. It almost appeared to be a metaphor for his life and the god of thunder was pleased to be sharing it with the handsome blue man.

  
His husband suddenly whirled, catching his grinning face with his sharp ruby eyes. “What?” He asked quietly, his voice cutting through the whirling weather.

  
“You are so handsome,” the All-Mother murmured, stepping towards the otherworldly creature that stood before him. “I am the luckiest man in all the Nine.” He kissed the base of one of the other man’s grey horns and wrapped him in his long arms, feeling the bite of winter play across his already cold frame.

  
“What has prompted this sudden outburst of affection?” The Jotunn chuckled, taken aback and a bit wary.

  
“Just this. Seeing you here, in your natural habitat, as it were.” He grinned broadly. “I would love to see more.”

  
The blue man pulled back, a serious expression on his ridged face. “Come with me. I have something I’d like to show you.” He gripped his life-mate’s large hand in his claws and wound his way off the plain and towards the mountains.

  
The King of Asgard was curious but didn’t say anything, just following the man he loved into the Alaskan wilderness. The landscape was unbelievable and he wondered how Loki, who had never seen the outside of his cell, knew where he was going. His heavy leather boots crunched through the drifting snow, disturbing the pristine nature of the scenery. Loki, his horned feet gripping the icy pathway without leaving a trace, pulled him along, laughing at his stumbling and floundering through the powder.

  
The pair passed a rather strange looking rock and continued up the slippery cliff face. With a sharp exhale and a gentle tug, Thor was wound towards an opening in the mountainside. Suddenly, he knew exactly where his husband was leading him. Loki released his hand, making his realize that he could no longer feel his fingers, his life-mate’s cold skin’s effect magnified by the wintery environment. His husband released some of his seidr into the opening, weaving something in the darkness.

  
“Coming?” the other man asked, his ruby eyes glinting with something that Thor couldn’t put his finger on.

  
He reached for the icy hand, not caring that his own was numb. “Of course, Loki. I’d follow you anywhere!” He gave the ridged fingers a squeeze. He got a flash of fangs as he was enveloped by darkness and made a quick descent into the gloom. A ball of light shot up in front of him, illuminating the rough-cut stone and glinting off of something, he couldn’t quite place.

  
When his boots hit the snow-coated floor, he allowed his gaze to wander. The light that his husband had cast revealed a wooden cot frame, scraped along one of it’s sides, with a thin mattress and nest of homespun drapery on the floor next to it. Two walls were almost entirely mirror, catching the light and making Thor blanch. The stairway, built of ice split the small room in half. On the other side was a set of three cubbies, one of which appeared to have some miraculous running water. The other wall was filled with rock shelving for the younger man’s books, now safely back on their shelves in Asgard. A wooden door led to a small bathroom with indoor plumbing but icy water.

  
Lastly, the King’s blue eyes found Loki’s ruby orbs. They were sparkling in the light from his floating lamp, filled with doubt. He was biting his lower lip, a couple of fangs worrying the azure skin, while his Horns and eyebrows crinkled. “Welcome to my cell,” the All-Father murmured with a shrug. “I-I...wanted you to-to see it.”

  
“Oh, Loki.” Thor engulfed the thinner man in his arms, thankful to be out of the bone-chilling wind, as the coolness that Loki lived in settled against his chest. He kissed the other man’s cheek lovingly. “Thank you for bringing me here. I know this can’t have been easy for you.”

  
The Jotunn gave a small, reminiscent smile. “You know...it’s not awful, being back here. This is where I...I rediscovered myself.” He sighed, scanning the rough, stone walls. “There are a lot of memories held with in these walls. A lot of pain, suffering. Heartbreak. But there’s joy, happiness.” He paused, two-toned red eyes meeting his husband’s stormy pair. “Love.” He smiled shyly. “And hope. Hope for the future.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Paradise, Alaska - Midgard**

  
The brigands were first spotted just before dawn by Hawkeye. The lack of fog was made up for with the addition of a squall. Loki immediately went to work, weaving a trap to ensnare the surging horde and to end the storm. The Avengers, Warriors Three and Sif, and Thor stood by as he struggled against the will of the winter. His seidr wove in and around the storm, surprised that he was meeting resistance until he found it’s source.

  
“One of them is Jotunn, born and raised. He’s the one controlling the storm.” He gritted his teeth, opting to complete the trap before the bandits were alerted to the presence of the Aesir and Midgardian force and before they reached the town, sleeping and completely unaware.

  
Clint and Natasha ran for the quinjet, ready to provide air support as needed. Stark lowered his helmet as the Captain shouldered his shield and the Warriors Four checked their weaponry. Bruce pulled his coat tighter around his frame, waiting for the Other Guy to be needed before making his destructive presence known. Thor twirled Mjolnir anxiously, watching his husband’s silent struggle.

  
With a hiss, the blue man grinned. “They’re stopped. Shall we meet them?” 

Thor rushed forward with the All-Father ready to meet the gang that had been terrorizing the Realms under their charge for too many years. The walk was not long and it gave Loki time to gather his thoughts. If there was another Jotunn involved, then that would explain the invasions of Jotunnheim. No band of Aesir could withstand the harsh winter of the icy realm unless aided. What the All-Father wondered, however, was what the Frost Giant wanted with the brigands. His brother was a fine king, much loved by his people, and his realm was flourishing under his care. It had to be deeply personal, a vendetta, for a Jotunn to betray his true king.

  
His sharp gaze cut through the swirling weather to see the band that stood before him and Thor and instantly wished that he had brought back-up. This group would not go quietly or without some form of retaliation or fight. There were forty of them, counting Lorelei, and, besides the sorceress and the Jotunn, all of them were male Aesir, Vanir, or Elf-kind.

  
The enchantress was making a show of attempting to weave her fog, muttering and whirling her hands in intricate patterns. The solitary blue figure stood in the back of the group arms outstretched as he released the storm that he held inside himself, blanketing the town and the surrounding countryside in thick, icy snow. The men were shouldering their weapons, most of which were rather crude and eclectic in nature, ranging from slingshots to spears to a couple of archers, and lastly, a man carrying what appeared to be a mortal machine gun.

  
Loki shot a look at Thor, knowing that the man’s sight was not as clear but also knowing that he could at least make out the sheer number that opposed them. Setting his jaw, the All-Father stepped forward, waving his arm at Lorelei to knock her unconscious. The woman would be left alone if she remained indisposed. As she crumpled to the powder, a cry of anger and confusion broke through the ranks.

  
“Silence!” a gravelly voice hissed, shaking the very earth on which they stood. The massive blue head turned toward the Aesir emissaries, eyes of blood red boring into the shorter beings. “We have company.”

  
The giant strode forward, drawing to his full height (a modest 11 feet tall) and spinning the storm about him. As he neared, Loki sucked in a harsh breath, his eyes following the Jotunn ridges that carved themselves along the new being’s body. “That’s not possible,” his whispered.

  
“What?” hissed Thor, Mjolnir practically humming at his side.

  
“He bears the markings of the house of Laufey. Those of Helblindi. Those that I-”

  
He was cut off by the deeper, earth-shaking voice. “I wondered when you would finally find us, older brother.” The Jotunn halted twenty feet away at the invisible barrier that Loki had erected, shifting the storm to cover his troops with a chuckle. “You are not as brilliant as others have made you out to be. Being mated to an Aesir has made you slow.”

  
Thor raised his hammer threateningly. His life-mate placed an icy palm on the uru head, stopping him from doing anything rash. “As I am rather new to our family, and seeing as you know who _I_ am, may I ask who _you_ are?” He tried to keep his voice light and level, not wanting this to end in a battle.

  
The taller Jotunn looked offended but not entirely surprised. “I am not shocked that the traitor, Helblindi-Who calls himself King, has not told you of me, though it was I that placed him on the throne, who raised him as a frostling.” His features distorted angrily. “I was birthed shortly after you, _Brother_. The replacement for the _runt_. As I was borne by a common whore, I was unworthy of the throne despite the fact that my sire’s life-mate had already died. So here I am, poor Byleistr Halvarson, bearer of the heritage of Laufey and left with nothing.” He stopped, grinning maliciously, “Until I take what is rightfully mine.”

  
Loki was not impressed. He felt bad for his half-brother, rejected and denied what was written all over his body, but was he not the same? He had been left for dead and had never known his sire and his relationship with his bearer was less than perfect. “I sympathize with you, Byleistr Halvarson. If you remember, Laufey rejected me too-”

  
“High words coming from the _All-Father_ ,” the younger Jotunn spat. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a town to conquer.”

  
“Why are you doing this?” Thor cut in. “To get back at a Jotunn who has been dead for nearly thirty years? Why act now?”

  
The blood-red eyes that towered over the royal couple slitted. “Because, _King of Asgard_ , I plan to bring my brothers low. Helblindi was easy to destroy. While he hibernates, his crops have been destroyed, his fields salted, his cities demolished. Dozens of slumbering Jotunns slaughtered. When he wakes, he will have nothing, weaken and die. Your life-mate, however, is more difficult to break. I knew that if I pestered about his edges, he would find me and then, I’d **kill him!** ”

  
On the final two words, the tall Jotunn grew a savage ice blade and shoved it towards the into the shorter Jotunn’s abdomen. Loki was prepared, his womb already shielded with his seidr. He forced some of it outward, knocking the Frost Giant backward. “Have it your way,” he snarled, fangs flashing. He opened his left hand, Gungnir materializing into it, as his right hand grew a sharp blade. He flung himself at the form of the taller Jotunn, who was making his way to his feet, and roared fiercely.

  
The quinjet’s engines zoomed above them as the Avengers joined them, a flurry of arrows raining down on the brigands. The brightly colored costumes and the flash of weapons surrounded the battling Jotunn. The All-Father hardly noticed as Thor’s lightning spun around him and Iron Man’s lasers pierced the wintery storm, a spangled shield flying past. His focus was entirely on his much taller opponent, circling him warily. The taller Jotunn snarled, exposing his fangs like daggers to the prince. Loki bared his in return before beginning his assault with Gungnir. He drove the blue mountain back, countering the wide swings of the other’s blade. Slipping under the wider arm span of Byleistr, the All-Father drew first blood, his spear slicing a long gash across the other man’s abdomen.

  
The younger Frost Giant roared, tossing his head back. Loki was not ready for the backhand fist that connected with his head. He spun in the snow but did not fall, his horned feet digging into the snow and ice of the Alaskan plain. He returned the blow with one of his own, his ice sword swinging through the flakes that his larger assailant was still controlling. Byleistr snarled and his attack became more vicious. The All-Father parried the blows that reigned on him from on high, his arms wearying as he held the much larger, stronger being at bay while holding his barrier between the battle and the town and the shielding around his womb. He was tiring, his much smaller size allowing him to get in close and to slice the taller Jotunn but none of his wounds were deep. In fact, they were entirely superficial, doing nothing to weaken his attacker.

  
Loki stumbled, his footing less sure as his protective seidr sapped his strength. Seeing his advantage, the younger Jotunn thrust downward with his ice blade. It sliced through the prince’s blue hide. Loki gasped against the invasion, glad that he had already protected his womb before going to meet the band, but surprised by the sudden assault. His organs parted as the weapon breached his body, spilling his navy blood onto the spotless snow. As his vision faded, he took all of his spare seidr and forced it into Gungnir, pushing it upward through Byleistr’s grinning jaws. He choked and crumpled, crushed under the weight of the larger Jotunn.  
__________________________________________________

  
Thor roared as he watched his life-mate get skewered on the thick icicle that the brigand’s leader wielded. He quickly dispatched the bandit who had attempted to take him on with a pitchfork and rushed towards his fallen husband. Someone was screaming as thunder rumbled overhead. The King of Asgard shoved his way through the battling masses, his blue eyes only on Loki’s pale, still form as it lay, crushed under the fallen second son.

  
As the remaining reavers realized that their leader had fallen, they quickly dropped their weapons, hands raised in surrender. Thor didn’t notice. He was shoving at the unyielding body of Byleister. His efforts raised a moan from Loki, redoubling his efforts. “Loki,” he shouted. “Loki! Please, stay with me! I’ll get this beast off of you and then we can go away. Actually have our honeyed moon. Then we can go to Jotunnheim, meet our new nephew. Just stay with me. Please.”

  
The Hulk, contrary to his other half, was not the God of Thunder’s biggest fan, mostly due to their little battle on the Helicarrier before New York, lumbered over to the fallen Frost Giants. Grunting, he took in the sight of Thor, unable to move the dead being off of the smaller blue man. The man looked familiar. Something registered him as a friend, despite his rather demonic appearance. The green monster grabbed the other side of the Jotunn and lifted, helping the blonde god remove the body. With a mighty heave, both beings sent the eleven foot body tumbling into five brigands, trapping them under it. With a roar, the Hulk was off again, smashing as he went.

  
By the end of his struggle with Byleistr’s remains, Thor was moaning, begging, pleading as his hands grasped the shoulders of his life-mate. Loki’s hands were still filled with their weapons, Gungnir practically humming with power while his right hand and lower arm was sheathed in ice. There was a massive hole through his husband’s lower chest and upper abdomen. His breathing was shallow, barely whistling out of his gaping mouth. “Stay with me, Loki. Stay.” Thor’s hands fluttered uselessly over the wound. Turning his head, he shouted, “Bruce, I need the first aid kit or a first degree healer. Asha! I need ASHA!”

  
The Hulk did not respond beyond a bellow, distracted by four brigands who had refused to yield. The God of Thunder grasped the golden spear, feeling his husband’s seidr within it. “Please,” he murmured to the enchanted weapon. “Help him.”

  
Miraculously, the spear responded, forcing the residual seidr into the beefy gods arm. The King of Asgard gasped, feeling the weight of the Jotunn’s power within him. “I don’t know what to do with this,” he whispered to the power as if it was a transient being. “Show me.”

  
Of their own accord, his arms slipped to the navy hole within his life-mate’s chest and abdomen, already sparking with blue seidr. His hands flashed with green and gold, before it slipped from him and entered the wound. Thor breathed a sigh of relief as the seidr stitched the man that had been his brother back together. “Loki,” he murmured, kissing his husband’s brow, “Just hang in there.”

  
The noises of the battle had long since ceased. Thor became aware of the silence and the heavy feeling of stares. He looked up, his hands cradling his life-mate’s head, brushing his ebony locks from his brow and horns, as if the gesture would suddenly revive him. The Avengers and the Warriors Three were standing around him and the healing form of his husband. Sif was standing further back, her stance wary. The surrendered brigands were bound, their eyes wide and watching the most powerful couple in the Nine, an arrow and a handgun aimed at their heads.

  
A sharp inhale below him refocused his attention. “Loki?” he whispered.

  
Eyes, scarlet as the purest rubies fluttered weakly under the horned brow. The Jotunn’s jaw worked as he breathed and muttered something that the God of Thunder did not catch, even in the strangely eery silence. “What is it, Loki?” He leaned down, his ear barely above the younger man’s pale lips.

  
“The baby...?”

  
“My husband,” Thor said, sitting up quickly, “I don’t understand. You are not making sense.” He placed a large hand over the life-mate mark he had made about three months ago, watching Asha scramble through the snow from the quinjet, medical kit in hand. “Rest. I will guard you.”  
____________________________________

  
**Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
It had been three days since the failed attack on Midgard and his husband had not woken up again. Frigga was unable to come, ruling Asgard and the Nine while her two sons remained in their Midgardian home. She scried them when she could, watching her oldest remain by her youngest’s side, and talking to him as he told her of the Jotunn’s progress.

  
Loki was beginning to look better, his dark azure tone returned, making his ridges stand out again, prominent swirls and lines on a royal blue canvas. It was the exhaustion that was keeping him asleep. His body was still healing, muscles knitting back together beneath the azure surface of his unmarred skin. His seidr was almost completely drained from his body, spent in his rapid, though scarless healing. It was slowly building itself back up to it’s full strength, though it could take weeks.

  
Thor replayed his husband’s final words to him as he lay, opened and bleeding on the snow, over and over, trying to make sense of the statement. _The baby_. What did it mean? The last ‘baby’ that his husband had seen was Freddy, Clint and Natasha’s son. Their own children, Torsten and Daryn, could hardly be called babies. They were five years old and were being tutored in politics, history, mage-craft, and weapons. ‘Baby’ was not a term he would use. Plus, Loki had said ‘the baby’ not babies. There was only one. Whose?

  
A light moan rose from the hospital bed. His husband’s head turned on the pile of pillows he and Asha had stacked to relief the pressure on his horns. The protuberances clacked against the moveable metal headboard with a light tinkling sound. “Loki?” Thor breathed, squeezing his lover’s ridged hand gently.

  
“Thor?” The younger man rasped, his already gruff voice rougher due to the lack of use for the last few days. His eyes opened blearily, blinking slowly, their vivid color, dull against his beautiful skin.

  
“Yes, yes Loki! I’m here!” The King of Asgard responded squeezing the thin, blue fingers that he held in his hand.

  
“Thor,” his husband rasped. “The...the baby? D-did it...s-survive?”

  
“What baby, Loki?” He shook his head. “I don’t know of any babe.”

  
The weary brow below him knitted as the deep, scarlet eyes widened in despair and his husband drew a shuddering breath. “No.” The syllable came out as a nearly inaudible gasp. The hand he held twitched, slowly moving down the long, still mending abdomen below him.

  
“Loki?” The thunder god gasped. He removed his hand from his life-mate’s claws and placed it over his husband’s lower abdomen. His seidr, gifted to him through Frigga when she passed her title on to him, seeped from his palm and into the blue expanse below it. He inhaled sharply at the sensation, the newness of power flowing from him instead of through Mjolnir was strange. A faint blip of purple, almost like a spark within the vast darkness of his husband. “Was that?”

  
“Our child,” Loki smiled weakly though his eyes sparkled with a boundless joy. “It is strong, like it’s father.”

  
“You’re pregnant?” His face lit up. “We’re having a baby?!”

  
The Jotunn hummed in agreement, closing his eyes. “We’re having a baby.”

 


	17. Chapter 17

  
**Midgard**

  
The royal couple kept their happy news quiet, waiting for Loki to fully recover and for him to progress further in the pregnancy. He had no plans on hiding it once he started showing, but he didn’t know when that would be. The biology book was obtuse and unhelpful, reiterating that ‘every pregnancy is different.’ The lack of symptoms that he was experiencing made him think that, more likely than not, he wouldn’t start to show for a couple of months yet.

  
The Jotunn was glad, though, that none of the problems he had had with the twins had resurfaced just yet. He was so tired, beyond exhausted really, his seidr slowly building back up to it’s pre-battle state as his body recovered. He had been moved from the medical floor three days after waking, and he was much happier in his own bed.

  
A light knock resounded on the wooden doorframe to his bedroom. Loki looked up from his reading, insisting on maintaining his duties as All-Father and Chief Advisor while recovering. “Thor,” he said brightly, giving his husband a small smile. “Is it that time already?”

  
He began to shuffle the papers that he held in his claws and laid them in a pile on his comforter. The God of Thunder wound his way to his husband’s side, smiling broadly. “Yes,” he smirked, eyebrows wriggling.

  
Loki sighed, shaking his horns at his life-mate’s crass implications. Slowly, he raise his arms to Thor. They felt like lead bars, weighing a thousand tons each. “Help me, please,” he hissed through gritted fangs.

  
“Of course, Husband.” Strong arms, thick as anacondas, cradled his body, one sliding under his arms, the other under his bent knees, bridal style. Winding his arms around the blonde’s thick neck, the Jotunn laid his head against the life-mate mark he had made the on their wedding night, comforted by the closeness. “I have the temperature just the way you like - chilly.” The King chuckled, the rumbling reminding Loki of his purr, a sound that he had been unable to produce in his weakened state. While he’d never say it out loud, he missed it.

  
“Thank you,” he murmured into Thor’s shoulder. “I appreciate your sacrifice. You could have made it luke warm, for your comfort, you know. I wouldn’t have minded.” He smiled softly as the beautiful blue eyes of his husband met his.

  
“It’s fine, Loki,” he responded. “I just want you to get better and Bruce thinks that it will help for it too be as cool as possible.”

  
“Sorry,” the Jotunn chuckled, cursing his true nature while happy that he was Jotunn. Without being Frost Giant, he wouldn’t be in the state of bliss that he was, with his life-mate, his children, his friends. He nuzzled his husband’s bare chest, the hair rubbing against his Bergelmir’s Tears, causing him to sigh.

  
“Don’t be,” Thor said, setting his husband on the edge of the wide tub in the master bath. In one swift movement, he removed the plain loincloth from around his life-mate’s hips. “After all, you and your chill have brought me so much happiness.”

  
The King’s hot lips seared a trail along his sharp, blue cheek bone and followed the Jotunn ridges down the expanse of his neck and across his chest. Gently, the god lifted his slight form into a basket carry and lowered him into the chilly tub.

  
He sighed, reveling in the comfortable coolness that he found in the water. His ruby gaze drifted to the side of the tub, watching the muscular expanse of his life-mate become apparent as his pants and undergarments were removed. He smiled possessively. That golden body was all his, and he was so grateful for it, if not a little jealous of it’s perfection. His husband turned away in the pretense of being shy, his cheeks flushing under the lustful gaze of his healing husband. It brought the thunder god’s back into full view, reminding Loki of the love that Thor had for him, bearing the scars of his conviction across it’s once tanned perfection.

  
The blonde god slid into the tub behind him with a hiss, gently moving his fragile body out of the way. The heat, like the sun at the peak of summer, further heated the water as Loki leaned into the hard muscles that coated Thor’s body. “I love you,” he whispered, turning his head and kissing the bearded cheek beside him.

  
“And I love you, my mate.” The kiss was returned passionately on his thin, cool lips, penetrating the slightly warmer depths and tracing a fang. “Now,” he whispered, lips still touching, “Let’s get you ready for our visitors.”  
______________________________________

  
After his very romantic bath, which made him angry at his lack of energy or strength to reciprocate the attentions that his loving husband had lavished upon him, Thor dressed him and brought him out to the living room. The blonde, not one to style his own hair, much less brush it, dutifully combed his ebony locks, which were, unsurprisingly, growing long, pulling the thick curtain free of his curving arches of keratin, and braided it loosely down his back.

  
They were expecting company and Loki refused to be viewed as an invalid, unable to keep up the appearances that he maintained both out of personal preference and as Chief Advisor of the King, Prince of Asgard, and All-Father to the Nine. He listened to Thor bustling about the kitchen, preparing tea and biscuits for their visitors and a couple of ‘hot’ chocolates for him. A sharp rap on the apartment door sent the thunder god skittering out of the kitchen with a boisterous, “I’m coming!”

  
Loki laughed at the sight. His husband was wearing a frilly pink apron. “What?” his husband stage whispered, a smile as large as the tower in which they sat plastered on his handsome face.

  
Catching his breath as his sides ached, regretting his uncontrolled laughter as his energy level, raised by the cool temperature that permeated the apartment and the tub water, was plummeting rapidly. “Just answer the door, you oaf,” he gasped, inhaling deeply as his lungs ached.

  
Thor shook his head, smile slipping slightly as he watched Loki struggle for air, and opened the door. Bruce and Asha stood on the other side, smiling, their arms filled with everything they could need to run a physical on the Jotunn. “Hello Thor,” Asha said, chipper in the early afternoon. She swept into the flat and smiled at Loki. “Hello Loki,” she said kindly, demure smile on her face. “How are you today?”

  
“Fine,” he replied, lying as was his monicker. He felt absolutely awful, weak as a newborn, but he was not going to admit it out loud. He silently cursed his Jotunn heritage and the fact that it prevented him from eating Idunn’s healing apples as well as nullified the effects of healing stones. And, while those items would heal his body, they would have no effects on his seidr. No, he had to heal the old-fashioned way - as slowly as his body wanted.

  
“Loki,” Bruce chided with a shake of his curly head and set his medical paraphernalia on the coffee table. Thor bustled back into the kitchen, his apron flowing around his hips. He could hear the china clinking and the water boiling on the stove.

  
“God of Lies,” he tried to smile. “What can I say?”

 

“Just lay back, relax. We just need to check some things.” Asha smoothed his hair, pushing it off his Horned brow and away from his horns. Bruce fluttered about, sticking instruments where he didn’t really want to be prodded but was too weak to resist. At some point, Thor entered, bearing a tray of goodies, which the medical personnel accepted graciously. The King held the cool cup to his husband’s lips, helping him drink. Their eyes met and they smiled, Loki tipping his head in his habitual blush as a grin quirked at the corners of his husband’s mouth. A large, warm hand covered his abdomen, comforting him with it’s strength and weight.   
_________________________________

  
After that, the couple fell into a pattern. In the morning, much later than Loki usually rose, he would wake in his husband’s loving arms. Thor would be busy, of course, reading reports sent via Heimdall. The other god would always put aside his work, greet his awful morning face with a loving kiss, and get him breakfast in bed. After eating, the Aesir would clear the dishes and then bring his husband to the tub and help him bathe. Bruce and Asha would come, equipment in hand, and chat while checking his vitals and checking up on the baby.

  
It finally changed about a week after the first visit by the man that housed the Hulk and the woman he loved. Loki woke two hours earlier than usual, feeling surprisingly good. His ruby orbs fell on the still sleeping form of Thor. A small smirk coated his lips. Today, he was going to begin to repay his husband for the kindness and devotion he had given him.

  
He eased himself out of his nest, the smooth wooden floor boards feeling strange under his horned feet. Gingerly, he pushed away from the bed, placing his entire weight on his wobbly legs. He felt like a newborn calf, unsure on his own feet. His first couple of steps were slow and he moved with the aid of the wall, but he was moving nonetheless. His smile widened, his fangs seeing the light of day for the first time in nearly two weeks. He set about cracking eggs and scrambling them in a pan with bacon, though he kept a few strips for himself, raw and deliciously fatty. When the breakfast was done, steaming and popping with the grease, he slid it onto a plate, his own breakfast sitting in a bowl, and slowly made his way back to his room, where his husband was still sleeping.

  
The strain was getting to him, as he made it to the door, his breathing was ragged. He leaned against the frame, huffing as if he had just run several miles instead of just making breakfast down the hallway.

  
“Thor,” he called gently. “Thor, I-I made breakfast.” The god’s startling blue eyes opened slowly and found him as he slid lower down the door jam.

  
“LOKI!” the God of Thunder gasped, throwing the sheets back and leaping to his side. “What-what is all this? Why are you out of bed?”

  
He lowered his gaze to the tray he bore, suddenly feeling ashamed for worrying his life-mate. “I-I was feeling better and wanted to repay you for helping me. I made breakfast.” He tried to smile, but he couldn’t, he was just too tired. “Puh-please. Take the tray before I drop it.”

  
The weight of the tray was snatched form his shaking arms and he found that he was able to stand a bit straighter, making his way back to the bed and collapsing onto it. Crawling to his pillow, he turned to face his other half. “Now, husband. I believe that now is the time for you to bring me breakfast.”

  
He steadily improved after that, regaining his strength by the middle of his third week. While he was glad to have had the opportunity to recover in peace on Midgard, he desperately missed his daughter and his brother’s children. Not to mention his poor mother who had picked up their slack. That, and he was due in Jotunnheim in ten days with Aiko, and, hopefully for some of his stay, Thor and the twins.

  
He was glad of the recovery because it was around that time that his health began to change for other reasons. The Jotunn had begun to experience a need for more frequent trips to the bathroom and slight cramping in his lower abdomen, his pregnancy finally making itself known. He was dutifully taking the giant horse pills that Bruce insisted he take and, much to his displeasure, his chest had grow a bit sensitive.

 

He was glad that he had yet to show on either his abdomen or his chest, not wanting to tell anyone else about his surprising condition at the moment. He’d wait to tell the children when the bump formed, then the rest of the Avengers and the Warriors Three, and after, all of Asgard and the Nine. He hoped that it would be a joyous occasion, that the people would be glad for Thor, for him, but he also doubted that it would ring true. Despite everything he had done for the people of the realms, he would never be appreciated or loved. That was the job of his husband and his children. He was the one who made the big decisions, who made the controversial calls. The monster who held the power. He just prayed that his child would be treated better than he was.  
_____________________________________________

  
The All-Father was grateful for the firm hold that his All-Mother had around his waist when they landed in Heimdall’s observatory. The travel via the Bifrost was jostling and rough. He felt as if he was being squeezed into a tube the size of his slender pinkie finger, stealing his breath and making him regret his decision to leave as soon as he could care for himself.

  
He staggered, his horned feet struggling to find purchase on the smooth gold floor of the shining end of the Rainbow Bridges. Waves of unwelcome nausea flooded him and he clutched his life-mate’s thick bicep.

  
“Careful, my husband,” Thor murmured sweetly in his ear as he held him upright, allowing the slender man to find his balance. Loki smiled, a couple of fangs peaking out of his mouth.

  
“Of course, dearest.” His eyes met his husbands, which sparkled like sapphires in the golden light, steadying him.

  
“Sorry to interrupt,” a sarcastic voice cut through the moment, “But I would really like to speak with my father now.”

  
Two pairs of eyes looked up at the short, dark-haired beauty that stood before them, a knowing smirk on her pretty face. “Aiko,” Thor chuckled. “He is all yours.”

  
The King kissed his consort’s ridges cheek and, making sure that he had regained his balance, backed away to greet his mother and sleepy children.

  
The Jotunn smiled at his beautiful child as she made her way over to him, her smirk turning into a beaming smile. He opened his arms as she opened hers, accepting each other into their loving embraces. He kissed the top of her head, inhaling her sweet scent. “I have missed you, my Child of Love,” her whispered into her thick, dark hair.

  
“I’ve missed you too, Blue,” the young woman responded, tilting her chin to look into her father’s ruby eyes. “But you need to promise me something, okay?”

  
“I must hear the request before I swear anything,” he said honestly, cupping his child’s warm cheek in a cool, clawed hand.

  
Her smaller hand covered his as she shook her head. “You need to promise me that you aren’t going to put yourself at risk again. I can’t get another message from Heimdall saying that you’re barely alive. I just can’t, Blue.”

  
“Oh, Darling,” he whispered, drawing her slim body into his, tucking her head under his chin, “I won’t leave you, not ever. That I can promise. As for putting myself at risk...” he sighed, “I will _always_ be at risk. A monster among men - blamed for every problem that plagues anyone, regardless of whether I’ve met them or not.”

  
“That doesn’t seem fair,” her flute-like voice muttered into his chest.

  
“Tell that to the brigands,” he whispered, feeling the weight of the task that still lay ahead. He had seven days until Jotunnheim, where he would have to tell his younger brother that he had killed their other brother whom he didn’t know existed until minutes before they had attempted to kill each other. He had five days to bring the remaining brigands to justice, somehow punishing them while rebuilding the realms. But, right now, he was home, in the arms of the woman who had saved him and whom he had called his own.


	18. Chapter 18

**Council Chamber - Asgard**

  
The All-Father sat, having heard the testimony of the brigands that morning, listening to the supposed wisdom of the Council of the Nine. The elderly members were generally in favor of killing the thirty-four members that had survived the assault on Midgard. They were saying that the crimes committed by the men outweighed the reasons they had made for committing the offenses. The Jotunn was unsurprised to hear that many of them were retaliating against his decisions (many of them pre-Paradise), or were attempting to force him into a compromising position through a wrong or hasty decision. Then, they would take that failure and use it to get him to rescind his position as All-Father and remove himself from the power he possessed. Others, however, were acting out of desperation. They were unemployed, uneducated, unaware of the changes that the new All-Father was enacting. They were told that if they wanted anything, they’d have to take it from others. Their ingrown prejudice against the Jotunn also made them less sorry for their crimes, but they were at least sorry. They were the muscle, not the brains of the operation.

  
The discussion on the punishment allotted was rather heated. Loki, of course, was far from perfect, but, he had yet to make a mistake and he intended to remain flawless. Thor reclined beside him, casually tracing the exposed ridges on his right arm with a disinterested finger. He had remained rather quiet, making no sound, absorbing everything that was said. His husband knew that it was because he agreed with the elders.

  
The blue man, on the other hand, wanted them to live. There was still the mysterious ‘she’ that had yet to make an appearance. ‘She’ had been mentioned by Lorelei and Loki could not think that Byleistr had wished to be addressed as female. He had called himself Halver _son_. No the ‘she’ was someone else entirely and, if the men remained alive, there was a chance that ‘she’ could contact them again, or one of them would contact her. He wasn’t just hoping for it - he was _planning_ on it.

  
**Loki’s Chamber’s, Bilskirnir - Asgard**

  
“Let go of me and finish packing!” Loki playfully struggled against his husband’s tight grasp around his waist. “We have court in an hour.” Thor’s beard tickled his cheek and neck as he was peppered with heated kisses. “THOR!” he shrieked, a purr erupting from his chest for the first time in nearly a month.

  
“An hour is plenty of time, Loki,” Thor responded between kisses. “Besides, how can I let you out of my sight when you look so...so... _ravishing_.”

  
Unable to stop himself, the Jotunn roared with laughter. “Ravishing? Your choice of words is rather poor, Son of Odin.”

  
Thor swung him around, easily picking his thin body off the floor, and landed him in the center of the nest bed which was currently filled with clothing, books, and other items for their trip to Jotunnheim. “Why is it a poor choice of words, Son of Laufey? You must know that I only speak the truth.” He grinned down at the man he was covering with his body before he leaned down and covered the other man’s cool mouth with his own.

  
Loki rolled his two-toned ruby eyes as they came up for air. “I am a blue, ridged, clawed, and horned monstrosity that even a father couldn’t love. And I’ve had _two_ of them.” He raised his eyebrows in honesty, along with a hand to cover his loving husband’s mouth. “It’s all the truth, Thor. I am ugly, no matter what society or realm I am in. On Midgard or here in Asgard, I am a monster or a nightmare. On Jotunnheim, I am a barbarian - all because of my physical features. On top of that, I am the cause of so much destruction across the Nine, the scapegoat for everyone and everything. And yet,” he smiled, melting under the weight of his life-mate, “Because of this form, I have found people who love me, more than I deserve truly, and I am thankful for that every day of my life. But I will _never_ be _ravishing_.”

  
Thor kissed his cold palm before he lowered it, smiling shyly, a fang digging into his bottom lip. “I am sorry, Loki,” he said, wrapping his arms around the slim, angular Jotunn, and rolled them onto their sides, limbs entwined. “I am sorry for what I said all those years ago, the games we played when you were a child. I’m sorry for what I said before I knew - before we knew. It was wrong of me to want to hunt the Frost Giants down to slay them all, to make them fear me. It doesn’t matter now, you know of my love for you, but I wish that you had never heard those things. Not from my lips, not from anyones. Because Loki, _you_ are the most _handsome_ man in all the Nine, no matter your form or figure. I am lucky and blessed to have you.” He planted a soft kiss on the mate mark he had carved into his lover’s collarbone.

  
“Thor,” Loki whispered, stroking the tangled golden mess of his husband’s hair. “Why are you telling me this?”

  
“Because,” the God of Thunder replied softly, breathing in his lover’s scent of winter, “I know that you are haunted by it. That is why you Fell - out of fear of what you are and how you believed that your family must despise you for it. I regret enforcing that belief for over a thousand years. I want to hide you from that hatred, protect you and hold you forever. I need to tell you how much you mean to me and you need to believe me when I complement you. I mean every word. _Every word_. And now you’re carrying my child, _our child_ , and it will be perfect, just like it’s bearer.”

  
Loki felt hot tears cutting paths down his lined face, tracing his ridges and freezing in intricate patterns on his skin. “Loki,” Thor paused, raising a hand to gently wipe away the ice as it collected. “What’s wrong? What did I say? I’m sorry...I’m so sorry if I-”

  
“Oh, shut up, you oaf,” the Frost Giant murmured. “I forgive you. I forgave you long ago.” He snuggled closer to his husband’s thickly muscled heat, resting his head on the mate mark his teeth had carved into the golden flesh. “It’s just the stupid hormones,” he muttered, disgruntled. “I apologize in advance for the next nine months or so. I’m not entirely sure what to expect or how long certain symptoms will last, including mood swings.”

  
“No problem.” The larger man kissed the base of one of his horns. “Wait!” he inhaled sharply, pulling back to see all of the Frost Giant’s symmetrical face. “Nine months? You - we conceived after our not-so honeymoon. Right before the Battle of Paradise? How can we already know?”

  
“No,” the Jotunn whispered. “I-I knew that I was pregnant before the battle. I...had already had my first check up with Bruce. I’m three months along.” His lips twitched to a small smile. “Please don’t be upset. And, for Norn’s sake, don’t coddle me. I will go over your head, I am All-Father after all.”

  
“Loki,” the King sighed. “I won’t make you do something that you don’t want to do. I have learned that you do what you want. I -” He paused. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  
“Because I wasn’t sure until I saw Bruce and we went to Alaska right after. There was no good time. I...wasn’t sure if you’d want it, if _I’d_ want it. It is part of me after all.” He sniffed, watching impossibly blue eyes widen in shock. “I couldn’t do it. It’s part of you too and I swear that I will do right by it and raise it to love itself and accept itself, no matter what.” He smiled. “But that is why it’ll be another nine months. I am Jotunn, which makes our child half-Jotunn, if not more. It’s a Jotunn pregnancy. One year - lucky me.” He placed a hand on his abdomen, his thin fingers stroking the taut skin there.

  
Thor grinned, kissing his thin, icy lips. “Lucky us.” A large hand stroked his Bergelmir’s Tears as his husband’s head lowered to his stomach and placed a gentle kiss there. “Hello, Baby. I love you so much.” His hot lips placed another kiss there, smiling softly.

  
Loki sat up, patting Thor on the head like an obedient pup, falling in love with the man all over again. “Now, finish packing. We are needed in court in half an hour.” He eased himself out of the nest and exited the room, removing his husband’s distraction as heat overwhelmed his face.  
_______________________________________

  
**Grand Hall - Asgard**

  
The All-Father’s mind was heavy. The fates of thirty-three men and one woman hung on his shoulders like a million pounds. He had made his decision over the last few weeks, solidifying it in his mind since his return to Asgard, yet he still feared the implications that the decision held. These men hated him, loathed everything about him. That was clear when they backed his half brother in his mangled version of revenge.

  
The single woman had already been confronted once. Lady Lorelei had met with him soon after his return to Asgard and he was glad that they had talked. She had asked to join her sister on Midgard, her belief that the older woman had died had driven her to join the brigands in the first place. He would grant her request. It was the least he could do for the woman who had sold out her employer. She was a sweet girl and she deserved to find happiness. Midgard and SHIELD could give that to her.

  
Slowly, and as regally as he could manage, he nodded to the servant who held onto the doorknob. The door swung open into the court room, accompanied by the sound of hundreds of people rising to their feet. Loki entered, head held high, horns catching the light from the sconces, and took his seat on the throne that his adopted father had held for so many years. His ruby eyes scanned the assembled crowd. “Please be seated,” he intoned monotonously, regal yet impassive mask firmly in place.

  
Closing his eyes, he took a deep inhale through his nose. He could feel Thor’s supportive presence seated beside him, giving him the strength that he needed for what came next. The Jotunn opened his eyes and allowed his gaze to rest on Lorelei. “Bring forth the sorceress, Lorelei.”

  
The woman rose, seidr suppressing cuffs jangling from her wrists as she walked forward. Her head was held high but she respectfully kept her eyes lowered, knowing her fate in advance. Loki stood, Gungnir held in his right hand, and looked down at the small blonde woman. “Lorelei Bjarkedottir, for your actions against the Nine and the use of your siedr against the realms, I remove it along with your Aesir essence.”

  
He held out a clawed hand, the shackles clattering to the floor as a faint gold glow enveloped the woman. The gold cuff, filled with her seidr, flew from the light and into the All-Father’s hand. He destroyed it with a flick of his wrist. When the golden light faded, all that stood before Asgard was a small blonde mortal with a very confused expression on her pretty face.

  
“Sleep.” The Jotunn spoke, the command being reenforced by a hand gesture. The woman collapsed into the arms of her guards. His ruby eyes met with their worried eyes. “Take her to the Bifrost site. Send her to Midgard. She is expected there.”

  
The guards bowed their heads respectfully and then carried the woman from the room. The All-Father watched her go, breathing a prayer for her safety and happiness as the woman disappeared from the palace, never to return.

  
Refocusing his thoughts as the doors swung closed, Loki’s piercing gaze fell on the thirty-three men. The majority of them were Aesir, related in some way or another to those that had lost their lives in the failed Frost Giant attacks that he had orchestrated. The Vanir and Elf-Kind men puzzled him, but he was not going to question their motives for leading attacks against the Nine. “Bring the brigands forward,” he called, resuming his strong stance, Gungnir grasped firmly in both of his clawed hands.

  
He watched the men as they came forward. Their faces and postures were a strange mixture of defiance, shame, hatred, and desperation. It was strange for the All-Father to see that. He was passing judgement for all of them together. They would all receive the same sentence, whether they were now feeling the weight of guilt over their actions or not.

  
The Jotunn raised his horns mightily and announced, “For your crimes against the Nine Realms: raping, pillaging, burning, destruction, I am laying down a universal sentence for all of you. You each will be branded as a plunderer upon your right wrist. You will return everything that was taken along with half of your wealth for the sake of rebuilding. Once that is completed, you will be collared and put to work reconstructing the realms that you have damaged. You will be sentenced to hard labor in the fields of one of the affected realms: Asgard, Midgard, Vanaheim, Alfheim, or Jotunnheim, for the next five planting and harvesting seasons - one per year. Once this sentence is complete, you shall regain your status as a citizen and, if any of your wealth remains, it will be returned to you. That is my sentence as All-Father. So mote it be.”

  
He brought the butt of Gungnir down onto the polished marble floor with a resounding clang. The guards led the newly degraded men from the court hall as the crowd roared against the conviction. Loki’s nostrils flared against the anger, but made no other show of it on his face. It was not surprising - he was not loved, despite everything that he continued to do for the people. Seeing the masses rise up in support of the people who had sought to destroy them, however, was hurtful. He had deemed his ruling wise and more than fair. The people apparently did not deem it so.

  
Suddenly, the crowd shifted. The silence that settled on the masses was disturbing. Loki’s mask slipped for a moment, terrified. He turned to the side slightly, casting a worried look at his husband.

  
Thor was standing, Mjölnir in hand, looking absolutely terrifying like the grandest storm plowing towards you at a rapid rate. His gaze was steely and intense, scaring the assembly into submission. “People of Asgard and the Nine,” he bellowed, “Let it be known: Any dissent against the All-Father is dissent against your realm and dissent against your ruler. He is just and wise. He has done everything in his power to better the realms. Your hatred or fear of his nature is keeping you from seeing reason. If you rise up, keep in mind what has passed. I guarantee that he will not be so lenient in the future.”

 

His speech done, the All-Mother walked to his husband’s side and knelt, taking one of his hands in one of his. Mjölnir hit the ground with a solid thunk, met by Gungnir’s butt slamming into the marble as Thor’s large hands took his slim left hand. Loki’s Horns knitted in confusion and he opened his mouth to speak.

  
Thor’s eyes raised to his, silencing him before his voice had even left his throat. “I,” the blonde man proclaimed, “Thor Odinson, King of Asgard, God of Thunder, All-Mother of the Nine, do hereby swear fealty to thee, Loki Laufeyson, Prince of Asgard, God of Mischief, All-Father of the Nine and love of my life. I will honor you, support your wise decisions and enforce them to the best of my ability, all the days of my life. This I swear.”

  
The King pressed a tender kiss into his husband’s knuckles and then rose, kissing his thin, blue lips passionately. To Loki’s surprise, a cheer rose from the crowd as the kiss deepened, tongues entwining. When they broke apart, the Jotunn whispered, “Have I told you that I love you lately?”

  
The other man smiled broadly, “Not within the last hour, no.”

  
“Thor,” Loki whispered, “I love you.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Utgard, Jotunnheim**

  
The Bifrost’s rainbow and gold glow faded into the early morning sun of Jotunnheim, the light sparkling on the untouched snow. Loki, exposed to the frigid air, fresh out of the terrifying winter, felt truly alive. Jotunnheim, no matter the circumstances, always seemed to welcome him home - the prodigal son returning to the place that made him welcome. He smiled and opened his arms wide, throwing his head back like a child, eyes closed, embracing the cold.

  
“Loki! It’s absolutely freezing!”

  
Without moving, ruby eyes still closed, horns glinting in the new sun, Loki responded, “I told you, _Thor_ , you would not be happy without your warmest winters. It may be April, but it’s still colder than January in Asgard or on Midgard.”

  
The King of Asgard pulled his furs tighter around his body, teeth chattering. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, “I’m wearing all the clothes in my closet while my husband is practically indecent.”

  
The Jotunn opened an eye narrowly. “I heard that.”

  
“You’re beautiful like that, Darling. I meant no offense.” The God of Thunder wound his arms, wool clothes pressed between them as the larger man shivered. “I just don’t want anyone else to get jealous of what I have.”

  
Loki ran his hands up and down his husband’s arms. “You just keep trying to dig yourself out of that one, you oaf.”

  
The blue man shoved the larger man off him easily and hefted the satchel that was filled with the twin’s warm clothing. The little ones were watching their two parents speculatively, heads cocked and eyebrow quirked. “Ew,” Torsten, ever the boy, moaned, “You two are gross.”

  
“Now, now,” Aiko chided, “Be nice, Torsten.”

  
“Yeah, Tory,” Daryn chimed in, “They didn’t even kiss. _That’s_ gross.”

  
The two men chuckled, hands brushing each other before grabbing the mittened hand of one of their youngest. “Now,” Loki began in a business-like fashion, “What are our rules while you are here in Jotunnheim?”

  
“Be polite to everyone we meet because we’re representing Daddy and you and Asgard,” Daryn recited obediently, giving her brightest forced smile to the man who had carried her.

  
“Be nice to Aksel who is older than us but acts younger. Which is weird and makes no sense,” the heir responded. “Also, no running, no breaking things, no complaining about the weird food...”

  
“Always wear your coat, hat, and mittens,” Daryn took over, “Don’t stay outside for more than twenty minutes at a time. Don’t touch any blue skin unless you have permission unless it’s you or Aiko. In case we get frost bite.”

  
“Okay,” the All-Father said, “It sounds like you’re all set.” He set off, sack of winter things for the twins in one hand and Daryn’s tiny hand clutched in the other. The family had barely gone twenty paces when the twins had begun to fade. The small girl’s hand, trapped within his own, had gone numb, her pink lips stained white. Torsten was not faring much better and he was vocal about it.

 

“Stop,” Loki commanded, pulling the little family to a stop. “Let’s see if I can do anything about this.” He dropped to a knee in the snow, placing an icy palm on the shoulder of each of the five year olds. He scanned their frost bitten faces with a hint of worry in his eyes. Those startling orbs closed, allowing his husband to pull through his filed memories from thousands of years. His thin lips pulled into a frown for a minute or so, the little ones squirming impatiently under the freezing hands, the cold seeping through their layers.

  
When the Jotunn’s eyes opened, he smiled a fang hanging over onto his lower lip. “Okay, Torsten and Daryn, I need you to stay perfectly still for me. Do not move until I remove my hands, am I understood?”

  
The twins nodded in unison, a splash of blonde and a dash of black, so like himself and his life-mate. As they nodded, they froze, teeth chattering violently. A trace of azure crept up their necks and into their beautiful faces. Thor couldn’t help but gasp, the shock of watching the children that were created in combination with his wonderful Jane become the babies borne by Loki.

  
As the glamour took hold, solidifying itself on their features, the All-Father gave a small smile to each child. Placing his cool lips on their foreheads, freshly lined with a strange, new pattern of ridges, he pulled away. “You were very brave, Little Ones. Thank you,” he murmured. “Are you warmer?”

  
The children nodded enthusiastically, looking at their new skin and tracing the lines. It was Torsten, ever the observer, turned to Loki with a question in his strange, ruby eyes. “Blue?” he asked.

  
“Yes, my darling?” The Jotunn asked, brushing snow off of his bare knees.

  
“Why don’t we match? You and Aiko match.”

  
“Um...” Thor could see that his husband was struggling, unable to tell his little ones the truth.

  
“Children,” the King of Asgard offered, “You know that Blue loves you very much. You also know that he bore you for nine months within him. However, Blue is not your mother. Jane Foster, my first love, my wife, is your mother. You know that...you know that she d-died...” he stuttered to a stop, still missing the smart and small Midgardian. Loki placed a kind hand on his thickly muscled, and rather cold, shoulder. The gesture gave him the strength to continue. “Jane died when you were so young, not even six months old. Blue...he helped all of us, he’s raised you as if he were your mother. But, you are not related by blood, thus you do not share any of his heritage. Which is why you do not share any Jotunn ridges.”

  
He caressed the frosty cheeks of his children. “If I were to adapt a Jotunn form, then you would have my lines.”

  
“No, Daddy,” Daryn interjected. “ _You_ would have _our_ lines.” She smiled and threw herself at the natural Jotunn’s legs. “Thank you for making me warm. I love you, Blue!”

  
“Me too!” Torsten murmured, squeezing himself into their little hug. “You’re warm.”

  
“Of course I am, Little One. You are too,” the All-Father stated. “We’re the same temperature now.”  
_________________________________________

  
“Greetings!” A very tall and distinguished Jotunn called when the massive doors of the Utgard palace closed behind the family with a solid thud.

  
Loki swept into a polite head bow, Thor following suit. Aiko curtsied deeply as her step-siblings echoed her position. “Greetings, Helblindi-King,” Loki called to his younger sibling. “May I present my life-mate, Thor-All-Mother, and our two youngest, my step-children, Torsten-Prince and Daryn-Princess.”

  
The larger Jotunn strode to them, fascinated by the small children. They could fit easily into one of his hands or could ride on his feet, something that Aksel never could do. “Please rise,” the Jotunn king said, offering his hand to Aiko and, ironically, Thor. With a slight quirk to his eyebrow, the God of Thunder accepted and rose, not voicing a single complaint. “It is an honor to meet my brother’s full family. Now, if you’ll follow me, I’d like to bring you to mine. Elksa has been bedridden. The birth did not go well.”

  
Instantly, Loki’s eyes widened. “Is he alright? The little one, too?”

  
The younger Jotunn smile brightly. “All is well, Loki-Brother. You have a new nephew. Egil Elksason was birthed February 28 at 11:57pm, four feet in length and weighing 80 pounds. That is why Elksa is still recovering. He was laboring for days, he deserved his rest.”

  
“Congratulations, Helblindi-Brother,” Loki said affectionately, stroking the thick curly head of Daryn, who stood next to him. “May we go meet your newest child?”

  
“Of course, of course! Elksa waits for you in the nursery,” the younger Jotunn said, turning and heading up the stairs. “Please follow me!”

  
Thor bent and took Torsten onto his back, carrying the child like a backpack. His husband mirrored the gesture with Daryn, knowing the challenge that the stairs would hold for them. His brother’s apartments were at the very top and it was a very long, steep climb. The twins shrieked in delight at their new, higher positions, the heir’s grasp tightly wound in his father’s long hair while Daryn gripped her step-father’s horns.

  
The climb was a bit rough, Loki vehemently regretting his extended recovery period, but it was worth it to find the picture of familial bliss at the top. Elksa was reclined on an ice chaise, covered in rich, white furs, a large infant clutched to his enormous, swollen breast. Aksel was sitting on the floor, multicolored blocks of various shapes and sizes, squealing enthusiastically.

  
“Elksa-Beloved, we have visitors,” Helblindi said, stroking the Crown on his heir’s head. “Look who’s here, Aksel-Heir! It’s Blue-Uncle and Aiko-Cousin! They brought the rest of their family, too. Thor-Uncle, Daryn-Cousin, and Torsten-Cousin! Isn’t this a nice surprise?!”

  
The not-so little Jotunn sprang to his feet and crashed forcefully into his short uncle, wrapping his thick, strong arms around the still slim waist. Daryn shrieked, grasping the horns beneath her hands tighter, making Loki glad that they were bone instead of flesh, unable to feel the strength in her small hands. “Hello Aksel-Nephew!” he said enthusiastically. “How have you been? You have most certainly grown in our time apart!”

  
“Good Blue-Uncle! I’ve grown a whole six inches this year and gained thirty pounds!” The four and half foot tall toddler crowed, his youthful energy latching onto his cousins.

  
“Wow! You are getting so big and you are already stronger than me! By the Norns!” That statement made the younger Jotunn squeeze him harder. “Careful, please!” he wheezed, seeing Thor’s hand twitch to wrench the little giant off of him and his fragile middle. He smiled softly and shook his head once. “I just recovered from a fierce battle and I am still very sore.”

  
“Sorry, Blue-Uncle!” The tightness around his tummy decreased as the little one moved on to Aiko. Wincing slightly, the All-Father lowered a suddenly very small and very fragile looking Daryn to the icy floor. The corner of his eye caught his daughter curtseying low to the laughing prince, who returned the gesture with a tipsy bow. When he crashed to the floor, the young woman swept him up into her slim arms and kissed the proffered elbow, wiping the icy trails of tears off of his ridged cheeks.

  
Daryn tugged at his loincloth with wide eyes. “Blue?”

  
Smiling down at the little girl, he bent to a knee gingerly, his waist still protesting from the hug he had received earlier. “Yes, my Darling?”

 

The curly blonde stood on her tiptoes and whispered into his ear, “Did you look like Uncle Elksa when you had me and Tory?”

  
He sucked in sharply, ready to tell the princess off when he stopped himself. She had never seen a pregnant being before, much less one that had just given birth. He looked her in her clear, blue eyes and spoke, “Yes, I looked similar to your uncle. What do you think?”

  
Her eyes got large enough to encompass the stars. “You must have been so pretty. I wish I had seen it.”

  
Her arms went around his neck and a kiss found his Bergelmir’s Tears. He wrapped her up in his strong arms. “Thank you, milady. I believe that once we are back in Asgard, we should take a trip to the Royal Gallery. Aiko has paintings and photographs of me and you, and your mother, Jane.”

  
“That would be wonderful, Blue!” He got another kiss before she wandered over to her much larger uncles and her newest cousin. Bold as brass, she held out her hand, which looked so tiny and insignificant, to Elksa. “It is a pleasure to meet you Elksa-Uncle.”

  
The larger Jotunn smile, his fangs flashing in the light, as he offered a thick finger to the small child who shook it vigorously, as five year olds tend to do. “It is wonderful to meet you too, Daryn-Princess. Would you like to meet Egil-Prince?”

  
As the brave girl nodded, her twin joined her, eager to see the giant blue baby. “He’s HUGE!” Daryn said, regardless of the rudeness of the statement ( _Just like her father_ , the All-Father thought) but she quickly made it up with her next statement. “You’re really pretty.”

  
Her large blue eyes, still their crystalline color despite her charmed Jotunn-esque appearance, scanned the nursing Jotunn’s body almost reverently. “Can I touch him?”

  
Elksa, used to Aksel and his youthful curiosity, nodded with a smile. “Of course. He likes having his Mantle and Wings rubbed on his back.”

  
Both twins, blushing, reached tentative hands to the newborn’s back, Elksa shifting the infant to his closer breast so that the five year olds (smaller in fact than his newest child), could reach. As the prince and princess of Asgard stroked the raised lines of the baby’s back, the newborn sighed and cooed a bit, finishing his meal happily and in a state of contentment. The tiniest Jotunn in his family made Loki want to brush his hands against his own, flat abdomen, thinking about the little life that was growing there.   
______________________________________

  
The time bedtime had rolled around, the twins were begging to stay in the nursery with their cousins and uncle instead of retreating to their beds in the Guest Hall. With a bit of coaxing and many promises, the All-Mother was able to get his kids into their twin beds, right next door to Loki’s traditional room. Aiko, pulled away from her beau and life-mate with beautiful line of Shakespeare, telling him with wide, loving eyes, “Parting is such sweet sorrow that I’ll say good night until tonight becomes tomorrow,” clutched her father’s clawed hand as he led her away, taking glances over her shoulder at the pale blue man with the strange coppery eyes.

  
With the kids in bed, the All-Father and the All-Mother retired to their room, exhausted but aware that they had much ahead of them. “So, let’s go over the details again,” Loki commanded, ever the bride in the situation. He was fulfilling a promise to his brother made a year ago - a ‘wedding’ between the first prince of Jotunnheim and the King of Asgard would occur in Jotunnheim, regardless of when they married on Asgard. The life-mate bond was acknowledged after the pair spent a few days locked away in heat, emerging to a feast. As a member of the royal family, the All-Father was also expected to wear a certain ceremonial garment to the bedroom and emerge in another, as if proclaiming the fact that he had been claimed. Thor would undergo a similar transformation, his mate mark proudly on display.

  
This concerned Loki greatly because, while spelling young children, barely birthed by Aesir standards was simple, applying a glamour to a grown man, older than he was, would not be easy. He was certain that their mini-honeymoon, a replacement for the two month trip they took chasing brigands, would be spent with him in a state of near exhaustion from his excessive use of seidr so that his husband could be warm and comfortable in little more than a loincloth. The thought set his teeth on edge. While he traipsed around in a state of undress, he did not want to share his husband’s extremely toned body with the rest of the population of Jotunnheim.

  
“I think I’m all set.” The deep, rumbling of his husband’s voice flitted breathily behind his ear. Thick, strong arms circled his waist. “We’re going to have three days to ourselves - just the two of us: no interruptions from any of their children or Asgard. It’s going to be wonderful.”

  
“Oh,” Loki whispered. “We can only hope, darling.”

  
Swiftly, he was pulled into the center of the nest bed, on top of his still hot body, his natural heat cutting through the layers of clothing that he was wearing. He rested his bearded chin on his shoulder, gently nudging his horns out of the way. “Why do you sound so glum, Loki?” He finished the statement with a chaste kiss on his ridged cheek.

  
“I’m going to have to place a glamour on you and I have yet to determine how to do it. Odin told me upon my return to Asgard that I was too set in my natural form for my original glamour to be replaced and I’m afraid that I won’t be able to do anything for you.” He leaned into the thunder god’s body, relishing the closeness.

  
“But,” Thor replied, “You can place a glamour on yourself. I’ve seen it - multiple times.”

  
“That’s different,” the Jotunn countered. “It’s a complicated and rather uncomfortable illusion glamour. It alters nothing about my body except my color and a few, blatant external...parts.”

  
“Then do that,” the King of Asgard whispered. “I will survive with a bit of color.”

  
“No. No you would not.” The All-Father practically groaned at his life-mate’s lack of magical knowledge. “You’d freeze to death in nothing but a loincloth in less than five minutes and I would not be able to do anything about it. Watching you turn to ice before my eyes, unable to even touch you for fear of freezing you, Thor, it is my deepest fear.”

  
Thor held him tighter, moving his grip up to just below his ribcage, careful of his growing child, despite the hard, muscles that still kept it hidden. “You will figure something out, Loki. I have faith in you.” His warm lips blazed a trail along his raised Jotunn ridges causing a deep purr to escape his chest.


	20. Chapter 20

**Utgard, Jotunnheim**

  
Loki viewed himself in the glass, an eyebrow cocked. He was wearing something that he would never have chosen for himself. It was feminine and rather like a shy, blushing virgin. He had a cloak of the purest white fur draped across his shoulders, covering his mate mark as well as most of his mantle along with a knee-length white loincloth with silver speckling that looked rather like a skirt- Jotunn chastity. He _loathed_ it.

  
Thor, hair still tousled from sleep, wandered into the bathroom, swathed in layers upon layers of fur. The All-Father smile sympathetically. Neither of them had slept particularly well. Despite the thick furs that the King had been wearing along with the fact that he had taken all of the blankets except one, he had been unable to stop shivering in the cool night that had plunged well into the negative digits. The Jotunn had tossed and turned before retreating to the couch, removing his cold presence from the room. As he left, he had created a small ball of flame and released it into the air, hoping that it would defrost the God of Thunder without melting the palace.

  
“Good morning my handsome husband,” the other man murmured, sliding in behind him comfortably protected by the cape. “How are you this morning?”

  
“Fine, thank you,” the blue man said quietly. “Did you sleep alright after I left?”

  
“I slept much better. Unfortunately, it was without you.” Tightening his grip, he continued, “I hope to remedy that tonight.” Placing a kiss on his exposed neck, the All-Mother asked, “Is the little one causing any grievances?”

  
“No, no problems thus far. It’s strange,” he said, stroking a clawed hand across his flat, muscled stomach. “The twins caused so many more problems. Maybe it’s because I was carrying two, maybe it’s because we had nothing in common, maybe it’s because I’m not far enough along. After all, I know nothing of Jotunn pregnancy except for the length really. Maybe it’s because it’s my second pregnancy.”

  
“It doesn’t matter to me, Darling,” Thor whispered, his hands joining his husbands briefly before withdrawing from the cold. “I’m just so excited that we have another little being entering our family - a little bit of you and a little bit of me. The perfect combination of us.”

  
The All-Father bowed his head in a blush. “Now, now Husband,” he chided. “Save it for later. I will see you at breakfast and then, well, we’ll see what happens.”  
_________________________________

  
As per tradition, the couple ate, their three children in tow along with a hyperactive Aksel and a tired looking Helbindi. The gathered Jotunn quickly turned and stared, taking in the image of the All-Father in the white bridal outfit, the Aesir King wearing all white as well, a matching mantle thrown across his shoulders though the rest of his body remained wrapped in white furs. The whispers filled the air, the deep rumbling setting in as other giants rose and went about their business.

  
Loki knew what they were discussing. The fact that the discarded prince, the runt with the animalistic horns and the mysterious mixed seidr had found a life-mate with the man whom he had been raised with as a brother. It was shocking - something that had transversed all the realms. Jotunnheim, due to it’s winter hibernation, had just been unaware. And now, the bond was being acknowledged for what many thought was the first time. He was sure that they were curious as to how it would work, the Aesir forced to wear layers upon layers. He would never be able to perform without fear of freezing.

  
Beside him, Thor was talking with his youngest children with a severe expression on his face. “You will behave for Aiko. You will do what she tells you the first time, no questions asked. You will listen to Helblindi-Uncle and Elksa-Uncle, not only because they are your uncles but also because they are the rulers of this realm. Do not disappoint me.”

  
Wide sapphire and emerald eyes looked up at the stormy eyes of their father. After a long pause, the little girl, a known tornado throughout the palace of Asgard, innocently asked, “When have we ever disappointed you, Daddy?” The statement was followed by a large, cutesy smile.

  
The God of Thunder chuckled. “Not often, Darling,” he said softly. “I’m just asking that you don’t destroy all of Utgard before Blue and I return, please.”

  
“We won’t let you down, Daddy,” Torsten chimed in, throwing an arm around his older sibling. “Right Daryn?”

  
“Yeah, Tory,” The young girl replied with an eye roll.

  
“Don’t worry, Thor,” Aiko said jovially, leaning into the conversation from Loki’s other side. “We’re going to have a wonderful time together, right guys?” She smiled, her pointed teeth flashing in the morning sunlight.

  
The twins nodded vigorously, huge smiles on their faces.

  
The exchanged looks caused the All-Father to turn to his child. “Aiko,” he instructed, “Make sure they clean their plates - even their vegetables, take baths every night, and go to bed at a decent hour.”

  
“Blue.” The woman cocked her eyebrow, a look of slight sarcasm on her pretty face. He reached out a hand and smoothed her brow before resting it on her cheek.

  
“My Child of Love,” he whispered as his face softened, “Please don’t forget to take some time for yourself. Spend time with Ren.” Her face lit up at he mention of her life-mate. “No funny business! Marriage before mating, that was our deal.”

  
“Dad!” The woman practically shrieked.

  
“I won’t judge you if you’ve changed your mind, just...” he sighed, looking down. “Be careful and think everything through, ok?”

  
A warm hand, the same temperature as his skin, stroked his Bergelmir’s Tears. “Blue. You raised me right. Don’t worry about me or the twins. We’ll be fine.”

  
With a last smile and a squeeze of his claws, Aiko gently pushed him towards his life-mate. “Go. Have fun. I’ve got this.”

  
Loki beamed, his fangs on display. “I love you - so, so much, Aiko.”

  
“I know,” she said, beaming back. “Now, go!” She gave him a none too gentle shove.

  
Feeling the eyes of the people in the dining hall on his short form, the All-Father rose and kissed his eldest on the forehead. He then repeated the gesture with the squirmy twins who wrapped their thin, blue arms around his neck and kissed him on his cheek. “Have fun with Daddy!” Torsten whispered cheerfully. The Jotunn chuckled. The little boy had no idea what he was saying.

  
“You have fun with your sisters and cousin,” he replied, placing another kiss on his mini-me. He stood, rising to his full height under the scrutiny of the watching pedestrians. Slowly and romantically, he offered a Clawed hand to his husband with a soft, “Thor.”

  
The King took the hand, not minding that, if this occurred on Asgard, it would have feminized him to no end, and rose relatively gracefully. He was beaming like a loon, his stormy eyes not leaving his own scarlet pair. In the distance, thunder rumbled.

  
As dignified as possible, the couple, hands clasped, strode from the dining hall and to the grand stair case. The pair practically ran up the spiral structure, leaving Loki, already feeling his lack of time spent in the training yard, breathing heavily. He sighed, the impending weight gain over the next eight months was not something that he was looking forward to. He made a promise to himself that he was going to be more active this pregnancy. With only one child, he should be able to maintain his shape for a longer period of time.

  
Romantically, and bravely, considering his still Aesir appearance, Thor bent and swept him off his feet, holding him close to his chest. “You shouldn’t overexert yourself,” he whispered playfully. “I need you fresh and ready for your mind to be blown.”

  
The blue man chuckled at the statement as his husband kicked the door open and shut behind them. “Don’t you worry, Thor. I’m out of shape, that’s all. Put me down so we can get started.”

  
Thor set the Jotunn on the chaise lounge tenderly and knelt before him, kissing along his jawline. Loki’s deep rumbling purr erupted under the tender caresses that his husband lavished upon him. Placing a cool hand onto the other man’s bearded cheek, he stroked the soft hair there, loving the texture that he would never have on his body. His husband shivered under his touch, causing him to pull back and away. “What is it?” Thor asked, a hint of frost coating his beard where he had stroked the facial hair.

  
“We have something else we need to do first,” Loki said with a sad sigh, glad that he had touched his husband’s beard and not his skin. “Put your mittens on, I need your hands and some of your seidr. I think that, if I try to apply the same glamour that Frigga placed on Aiko’s bracelet, you can take a Jotunn form with some natural attributes due to your heritage. I just have to place it on you and not an object. With a bit of your seidr, I should be able to do it.”

  
Thor pressed his lips to the base of one of his horns before pulling back and yanking his gloves on. “I have faith in you, Loki. You can do it. Take everything you need.”

  
With a small smile, his fangs playing at his lower lip, the All-Father grasped his life-mate’s fur-covered hands and released his seidr. He went in search of his husband’s dual seidrs, the bright white of the All-Mother and the electric yellow and grey of the storm, interweaving them with his. The King of Asgard gasped, feeling the intimacy in the combination of their powers, which caused the Jotunn to smile widely before he began to chant and closed his eyes.

  
The chant, in Jotunn, was rumbling and grating, like the sound of rocks cascading down the mountains, split by the ice and beaten by the snow. The growling, gravelly language felt so natural rolling off his tongue, as if he had been speaking it from birth. Thor’s large hands tightened on his fingers in shock, unused to hearing such gruff tones fall from his husband’s silver tongue.

  
The squeezing became more intense as the seidrs began to weave through his muscled body and Loki thought he heard a gasp. The other man did not pull away, however, so he kept chanting and weaving, feeling something take root within his husband and grow. He prayed that it was the Jotunn glamour and not something else. With a bit of the thunder god’s magic, he created a safety, a way out of the enchantment as well as a way to reenact it without his influence, kind of like a Midgardian light switch.

  
As his seidr and Thor’s magic began to feel worked but not to the point of exhaustion, his husband’s voice cut into his consciousness. “Loki,” the husky whisper sounded, “I’m feeling really uncomfortably hot.”

  
Loki’s ruby eyes snapped open and onto the blue ridged face of his life-mate. His primary features remained, his hair falling loose about his shoulders, his beard standing out against the new cobalt of his skin. His eyes were beautiful, a two-toned garnet, darker than his own and not nearly as startling, as if blended with his natural blue-grey eye color. His forehead displayed Horns and Loki couldn’t wait to run his fingers along the distinctive lines that ran along his cheekbones. His ridges, as predicted, reflected those of his children and the natural Jotunn couldn’t wait to explore the lines as they cut their way across every part of his muscled form.

  
“You are so gorgeous,” he breathed in awe, lust, and relief. It had worked and neither of them were overly tired from it.

  
Thor was frustrated pulling at his thick, layered clothing. He stopped as his mittens fell away to reveal blue, ridged hands with blackened fingernails. The All-Father watched the other man’s jaw drop, his hands developing a small tremor as he stroked the skin and traced the Claws that had presented themselves. Without a sound, he began to yank the rest of his furs off, revealing more and more skin as he went.

  
While he had no idea what was running through his Aesir life-mate’s head, Loki found himself struggling against the urge to launch himself at the newly blue man. He was so incredibly handsome that the true Jotunn couldn’t believe the attraction he was feeling. Thor still looked like himself and yet, he looked like the man that Loki saw in the mirror every day. He was an Aesir-looking Jotunn. By looking at his husband, the younger man finally realized what the King had seen in him, what he still saw in him. He realized, for the first time, that, just because he was azure, it didn’t mean that he was hideous. It was a realization that he would be sure to pass on to his unborn child.

  
In almost no time at all, Thor stood before him in nothing but his loincloth. He was spinning, looking and tracing all of his new ridges. When he stroked a particularly stimulated line he would shiver and gasp. The All-Father smiled as he watched the older man explore, fascinated by his life-mate’s fascination. Finally, the God of Thunder stopped and turned nervously to face him, a piece of his lower lip pulled into his newly sharpened teeth. “I-I feel...strange,” he whispered.

  
Knowing how the blonde man was feeling, he stood and embraced the neutral temperature of his body. “Would you like to talk about it?” he whispered, rubbing and stimulating the Wings and Mantle on his back, eliciting a soft, sensual moan from the newly blue lips. “Let me help you to make sense of everything.”

  
Thor chuckled, his head coming to rest on his collarbone. “Is it always like this, Loki?” he murmured questioningly.

  
His clawed hands stopped their ministrations and he leaned his ridged cheek against his husband’s hair. “You will need to be more specific, Darling. What always feels like this? And what is this?”

  
The king sighed, kissing the shoulder beneath him before trailing his lips down to the mate mark below it. “I-I don’t know...I don’t want you to be upset with me...”

  
“ _Why_ would I be upset with you, Thor? I could never be upset with you. Not for looking for answers.” He gently pushed his life-mate up to sitting and grasped his hands. “Please, Thor. Ask anything you’d like.”

  
The large, blonde man would not meet his eyes. Instead his eyes followed his fingers as they continuously traced his new Claws. The All-Father noticed the action and spoke, not waiting for his husband, who was obviously in a state of shock and disbelief. “The Jotunn ridges - they will take some getting used to. I like to think of them as a sixth sense. The sensitivity is like nothing that I have ever experienced and it can be extremely overwhelming. Feeling every faint movement of air, the tiniest touch is electric. Due to their sensitivity, I really dislike wearing a lot of clothing. The fabric irritates them and, honestly, it is strange without that added sense.”

  
Thor sighed, his fingers stilling though his head remained bowed. Loki was so unused to seeing the older man in such a strange frame of mind. “Thor,” he murmured. “Do you want me to keep talking? Is this helpful?”

  
A single nod was his answer. With a small, knowing smile, the Jotunn continued to explain his new body. “The eyes - you haven’t seen yours but I know what you’re seeing through them. You’re seeing everything in extreme clarity. Everything is sharper except, ironically, for white. I think it has to do with the snow. The snow is here year round and the sunlight, though sparse, can make the snow really unbearably bright. Except the eyes negate that while amplifying everything else, which is why I can see perfectly in the dark. It’s an interesting bit of evolution.” He gave the larger hands a firm squeeze.

  
“Everything else is basically the same - at least according to Aiko. She can palate Jotunn food but generally doesn’t care for it. You don’t have fangs or claws. Your feet are not horned. And praise the Norns that you haven’t grown a pair of these beauties.” He raised a hand and stroked the spiraled keratin that protruded from his brow. With his other hand, he tilted his life-mate’s head up so that he was looking into his eyes. “And, you should know, you are such an incredibly handsome Jotunn.” He bit his lip, teasingly. “And I just would like you to know that I have been wanting to do some _very_ naughty things to you since I stopped chanting and saw your handsome face for the first time.”

  
“Really?” The God of Thunder asked, his insecurities reflected in his rich red eyes.

  
“Oh, yes,” he whispered, leaning in and capturing the other man’s lips with his own, his tongue gently coaxing the other man’s mouth open. It was so strange, to be this intimate with the Aesir man and not feeling like he was kissing a blazing fire or furnace. The spark was certainly there, as was the chemical heat, but the difference in skin and internal temperature had vanished.

  
Whether it was something he had said or something that he had done, Thor responded to him, raising his hands and running them through the thick ebony curtain of his hair before gripping the back of his head firmly, deepening the kiss. The shorter man leaned in, rubbing the ridges that covered both of their bare chests together, the raised skin catching, causing the nerve endings to fire unceasingly. He wrapped his strong arms around the broader shoulders of his life-mate, stroking the ridges that played across the other man’s strong back and pulling himself off the couch. He slid easily onto Thor’s lap, gasping as the back of his thighs stimulated the ridges there and on the top of his husband’s legs. Loki could feel his partner’s confidence surge as he gasped and moaned in reaction to the attentions that the Jotunn was paying him.

  
“Loki!” he shouted, the only reaction he could have with all of his senses becoming overwhelmed.

  
“Take me to bed!” the ebony haired man growled in response, his fangs pulling fiercely on his husband’s lower lip. “ _Now_ ,” he moaned.

  
Thor rose slowly, allowing the slighter man to wrap his long legs around his muscled waist, and cradled him to his chest, walking briskly to the bedroom and the nest that waited for them.

 


	21. Chapter 21

  
**Frigga’s Chambers - Asgard**

  
The Queen Mother was exhausted. Ruling a realm was no small task, especially since she was doing the work of both of her children. Thankfully, four days into their visit to Jotunnheim, there had been no major incident in the Nine. For that, she was grateful.

  
She squeezed the bridge of her nose gently, releasing a long exhale. It was her second project that was causing her to lose sleep and for her stress level to rise. She had not told her sons that she was doing this, though she was sure that Loki had discovered her secret. It was because of him that she felt the need to do this.

  
Pulling her scrying bowl out and filling it with her pitcher, she threw her seidr into it’s depths focusing on one thing: “She.” The mastermind behind everything awful that had happened to her family after Loki’s return was still at large. Her intentions were obviously aimed to destroy her little boy, whether through the manipulation of others or in outright attacks on his person. At first, Aslaug had seemed to be an isolated incident. Then, less than six months later came the attack on the royal family, resulting in the deaths of Jane and Odin. The council’s ill treatment of the newlywed couple, despite their high rank and the populace’s general love of Thor, he had been cruelly beaten. The brigands came next, attacking around the edges before braving larger cities - locations dear to Loki. The final battle had left her youngest clinging to life, but a mistake had been made. The connection between the acts of violence was one being, the mysterious “She.”

  
Frigga intended to find this woman and when she found her, she would make her regret the day that she had been born.  
_________________________________________________________

  
**Utgard, Jotunnheim**

  
“Let me help you,” Loki chided, reaching towards his husband’s ceremonial loincloth as the other man’s larger fingers struggled with the ornate clasp. “It’s a miracle you could ever get Jane’s bra off. There’s no way that you’re going to be able to do this yourself.”

  
“Well,” the blonde man retorted, “If that’s the case, then maybe we should just stay here.” He gently pulled the horned man to his feet as the clasp slid into place. “I’m not quite sure I’m done having my way with you.” He smirked suggestively.

  
The thinner man smiled back. “As wonderful as that would be, we have promises to uphold. Children to attend to.” He stroked his husband’s lined cheek and beard with his calloused thumb. “I certainly wouldn’t want them to come looking for us, would you?”

  
He turned away, double checking his own appearance in the mirror. He did not want to appear less than put-together, despite the activities that he had participated in for the last three days.

  
As he adjusted the buckle on his own loincloth, he paused, hands skimming his abdomen. He was still feeling fine as he neared his fourth month. There wasn’t a sign that anything was different. No bloating or added weight, no breast tissue developing. Just a bit of tenderness and a slightly darker nipple. He was lucky and for that he was grateful. Everything was relatively normal and no one but his husband, his mother, and doctors knew about the little life he harbored. The perfect combination of Thor and himself.

  
Sneaking a glance at his life-mate in the mirror, he smiled. He hoped that this little one looked exactly as Thor did now: azure with garnet eyes, completely and impossibly perfect.

  
“What?” the thunder god queried, walking over and placing his own large hands over Loki’s slimmer ones. “Are you feeling alright?”

  
“Yes,” he replied, leaning his head into the other man’s ever so slightly. “I was just imagining what our child will look like. I hope that it looks like you.”

  
“Well,” the other man guffawed, “That is not going to happen because it will look exactly like _you_.”

  
“Norns, I hope not,” the shorter man replied, spinning to take his husband in his arms. “I wouldn’t wish a set of horns on anyone.”

  
“I think they’re handsome and very striking,” Thor whispered, kissing the base of each protuberance.

  
“Yes, well,” the Jotunn chuckled, “That’s because you don’t have them getting in the way!” He laughed, a deep, rich ‘ehehehe’ that was soon joined by the king’s musical chuckle.

  
“I guess you’re right, Loki,” the other man said. “They maybe beautiful but they also seem a bit impractical. What is it like?”

  
“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?” The other man teased, his laugh lines contorting the Jotunn ridges that transversed his face. “I’m sure it can be arranged!” With an elaborate flourish, he created the illusion of ram’s horns on his husband’s head.

  
Thor caught sight of the new appendages on his head and gave a shout, a hand flying up and brushing through the illusion. Despite the interruption, the horns remained. “ _LOKI!_ ” the King of Asgard roared, his eyes sparking with amused rage.

  
And with that, the Jotunn took off running for the door, laughing riotously, his life-mate in hot pursuit.  
_______________________________________________

  
Thor couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at the reaction of the populace of Jotunnheim to their ‘mating.’ The peoples would simply give a small smile or a quick glance and go about their lives. It was incredibly strange and a bit unsettling. Weddings were feted and talked about with the people scrambling to catch a glimpse of the newlyweds together on Asgard. The Jotunn’s casual dismissal of their coupling was strange. He kind of liked it.

  
Loki was obviously pleased, his widest smile not leaving his handsome face once, his ridges twisted with the laugh lines around his mouth and eyes. The king’s new, sharper eyes fell to the scar that he had renewed three days ago with his slightly sharper teeth and felt himself well up with pride. The beautiful creature who walked beside him, clawed hand grasped in his own, was his and no one else’s, until the end of their days.

 

When they entered the main dining chamber, the twins spotted them almost immediately, launching themselves across the hall as fast as their short legs could carry them, shouting their excitement and happiness at their return. The two small bodies collided with his and with Loki’s all of their ridges rubbing against everyone else’s, causing them all to wriggle and laugh at the feeling. “Oh, how I’ve missed you!” he said, ruffling their hair and planting kisses on any bit of exposed skin, his strong arms wrapping his two precious treasures into his chest, feeling the pull of the renewed mate-mark that his husband had placed on his shoulder.

  
“Daddy! Blue! We’ve missed you too!”

  
“You’ll _never_ guess where Helblindi-Uncle took us yesterday!”

  
“It was soooo pretty! Can we go back?”

  
“You could come with us this time!”

  
The All-Father chuckled. “Of course, Little One’s! Maybe we can go after breakfast. Do you think you could lead the way, or should we ask Aiko to come as well?”

 

“Aiko knows how to get there. She should bring us,” Tory reasoned, “I’m not sure if I would not get lost.”

  
“She can come, but only if she brings Ren,” Daryn said, blushing slightly. “I like him. He’s handsome and nice.”

  
He looked over at his husband, the other man’s shocked blue face, pulling into a drop-jawed smile. “Loki,” he whispered, “I believe that our little princess has a crush.”

  
The natural Jotunn leaned into him, his horns connecting gently with his newly marked forehead. “Too bad he’s already spoken for,” he whispered conspiratorially. “And I think I can speak from experience that you cannot go against the life-mate bond.”

  
“Do you think that either of them will develop one, will have what the rest of us have?” It was quiet, meant only for the younger man to hear.

  
He felt the smooth keratin prominences roll off his forehead as his husband’s strangely warm skin leaned against his cheek. “I don’t know, Thor. I don’t know.” he sighed, his still cool breath played across his cheek and brow. “They are not Jotunn. Unless another Jotunn runt is birthed, or a half-Jotunn for that matter, they will not have the option. They are too small to find a mate among the _normal_ Jotunn.”

  
Turning, he planted a soft kiss on his lover’s cerulean cheek. “Well,” he replied. “Nothing against your wonderful family, but I’ve never liked normal.”

  
He received a shove for his troubles, Loki glaring at him sarcastically, eyebrow arched while a smirk played at his lips. “You big oaf!” he hissed playfully.

  
“That’s not very nice, Blue!” Daryn said, crossing her little arms, her bottom lip out in a full pout. “Apologize to Daddy for calling him a mean name.”

  
“No, no, Princess,” the God of Thunder intervened, kneeling down. He felt the All-Father’s slim hand resting on his shoulder. “Blue calls me a big oaf out of love.”

  
“Like a nickname?” Torsten asked, his black, curly head cocked to the side.

  
“Yes, exactly like a nickname,” Loki’s rough voice cut in. “I have been calling your Father a big oaf since long before you were even a thought. Even before your mother was born.” He smiled as memories flooded his mind of his childhood with Thor, his first millennium of life. Quickly, he bent to kneel beside the twin that looked exactly like he had through his childhood. Fixing the twins in his bright eyes, he finished the lesson by saying, “Just because that is what I call your father, that doesn’t mean that you can call people bad names. You should only give nicknames if they say it’s okay.”

  
“And Daddy said that it was ok?” the little blonde girl asked.

  
“Of course I said it was okay, Daryn!” the king replied jovially, placing a large hand on her small shoulder while the other rested on Loki’s knee. His husband reciprocated the motion by placing a hand on the small shoulder of his stepson, the child he had borne for nine months, and covered his own hand with his thin fingers. “Now,” he said, quickly changing the subject, “Shall we eat and then go on our adventure?”  
_____________________________________________

  
As wonderful as his mini-honeymoon with Thor had been, the Jotunn was glad to be back among the hustle and bustle of the people of Jotunnheim. Strangely, he had always felt different when he was here - like he belonged, like he was welcome, like he was home. That feeling was something that flowed through him, the ice that mingled with his very blood, staining him blue. Despite his hideous appearance, untamable as asserted by his horns, the Frost Giants still treated him like a person, like a living breathing being with feelings, emotions, and logical thoughts. His status as All-Father and prince of Jotunnheim certainly helped. The Aesir would never see him the way that the Jotunn viewed him. That was why he always enjoyed his trips to Jotunnheim and now he was finally able to share it with the family that he loved more than anything else.

  
“Come along, Blue,” Aiko called, leading their little expedition party out of Utgard and towards the ruins on the outskirts of the city. “You don’t want to get lost!”

  
He just smiled, turning away from the swarm of population that he had been observing and followed the varied foot and boot prints that marred the snow in front of him. “I’m coming, my Child of Love,” he called back, his eyes fixed on his family.

  
The little ones were pushing and shoving with his grown child of a husband, running about the white expanse of the snow, ducking in and around the large drifts and icy stalagmites that thrust up through the surface. Every now and again, a ruined stone structure, coated and eroded by the elements and time, breeched the pristine surface. It was ethereal, otherworldly, and his blue family fit in perfectly. The thought made him smile.

  
His horned feet made up the distance quickly, giving him the extra purchase that the boots of the others never had. Ren was burdened by his life-mate, a pale arm wrapped around her waist as she pulled him down into the snow, and his feet, lacking the hooked toe that the Jotunn possessed, allowing Loki to make good time. He rejoined the merry group, picking up Torsten and spinning him through the air while he giggled. Thor caught his daughter about the waist and mirrored the action, her ear-splitting shriek of delight causing Loki to laugh boisterously.

  
“Put me down, Blue!” the heir giggled. “We’ll _never_ get to the special place if _you_ keep holding us up.”

  
Setting the boy on his feet, the Jotunn smirked. “You are right, your highness. I am terribly sorry. Lead on.” He gave a deep bow, his grin growing wider.

  
“You’re funny, Blue,” the little raven haired boy chortled, giving him a little push.

  
“Well, Torsten,” the All-Father said, hands akimbo, “I am glad that _someone_ in this family thinks that I am funny!” He beamed, his fangs on full display. “Now take my hand, My Prince, and lead on. I am your humble servant.”

  
Ruins, made of ice and stone began to appear in greater frequency, causing a huge sense of sadness to well up within the Jotunn. It caused him to gasp, tears springing to his ruby eyes and instantly melting the moment they touched his azure flesh. “Are you crying, Blue?” Daryn had noticed his trembling lips and the icy trails that transversed his Bergelmir’s Tears.

  
He sniffled quietly. “Yes, though I don’t know why...I haven’t figured it out yet.”

  
“You feel it too, Sir?” Ren asked quietly. “The immense sorrow of this place. I think that all of us can feel it.”

  
“This-this-this _city_ , this was where it happened. Where we lost everything. _This was Utgard_.” He could barely breathe, the immense emotions that engulfed him were unstoppable and he found himself clutching tightly to his nephew’s hand.

  
He barely noticed when the small hand was wrenched from him and was replaced by a much larger one, squeezing back, reassuring him. “Where are you taking us?” the baritone of his husband’s voice sounded so far away.

  
“The temple.” It was a barely audible murmur that fell reverently from his thin, cobalt lips. His ruby gaze fixed on the building, the only structure that was almost entirely intact. This was where he had been abandoned as a child, left to die from exposure, an unwanted runt. This is where he had been given life, stolen by the All-Father, crafted into the Aesir skin that he had considered his own, and taken to be raised to hate his true people, monsters. His mind, filled with the memories of his childhood, the knowledge that he had gained, along side the memories of Odin. It was as if he was watching a movie on the Midgardian television screen:

  
_Odin, bloodied and battered, empty eye socket oozing his scarlet life force, striding regally, despite a slight limp, through the rubble of war. He forced the massive stone doors of the temple open, entering the immense structure like the victor that he knew he was. At the end of the long aisle, blazing brightly on a pedestal, sat the Casket of Ancient Winters - the weapon of Jotunnheim, abandoned in Laufey’s haste, power radiating from it. Stealing himself and sucking in an icy breath, he grasped the handles on the Casket and was pulled into the storm within. As the winds battered him and icy cut into his exposed skin, an image appeared, wavering and fuzzy. A tall Aesir of noble bearing, wearing a pair of ram’s horn upon his head - Bor._

  
_“My Son,” the ghost intoned eerily, “Once you master this weapon, you must take another. A babe lies above, in the temple tower, abandoned. Take it, raise it as your own. That baby is destined for greatness and will need your guidance. Take it. Take **Loki**.”_

  
_The All-Father fell out of the Casket, tumbling down the dais steps, one hand still holding the object. Quickly, he vanished it and moved to do what his father commanded. He did not know why he would be moved by the image of his callous father to save, much less raise, a monster and yet, as he reached the top of the spiraled staircase and saw the tiniest blue child, small even by Aesir standards, squalling through the winter’s cold, something broke inside him. This baby was special, so very special. Carefully, he picked the squirming infant up and marveled as it quieted and, giving a small smile, turned pink. The All-Father was filled with such love for this child and it’s willingness to please. Unsure of what to do with the glamour the child had cast upon itself, he quickly made it permanent, layering the tiny babe with as many spells as he could muster. A child possessing that amount of power only hours from birth was unheard of. He would take this child and raise it, as his father commanded, and he would do right by him. And, if he was lucky, he had found his successor._

  
“Loki?” Thor asked, gently shaking his trembling shoulder. It was then that the Jotunn realized that he was sitting on the cool stone steps of the temple, his head in his husband’s lap.

  
“Mmmphf,” he groaned, a hand coming up to quell the strange headache that had developed.

  
“Are you alright? Shall we turn back?” Several pairs of not-quite scarlet eyes looked down at him, filled with concern at his sudden collapse.

  
“I-I’m fine...just...reliving some of Odin’s memories of-of the last time I was here.” He heard Aiko gasp as Thor’s grip tightened slightly.

  
“We’re so sorry, Blue. I swear we didn’t know,” his child whispered, hand covering her mouth while Ren squeezed the other gently.

  
“It’s fine, just a bit overwhelming, that’s all.” He smiled weakly. “I think I’d like to go lie down a bit, Thor. I’ll just teleport myself back and I will meet you all for dinner.”

  
Before his husband could protest, the blue man imagined the four season stained glass window in his rooms and opened his eyes to find himself there, thankful for the solitude. The tears came fast and furious now, falling in a mixture of emotion. Debilitating sadness, overwhelming loss, joyous thankfulness, immeasurable happiness.

 


	22. Chapter 22

  
**Utgard, Jotunnheim**

  
Loki woke, still feeling exhausted, to find icy trails coating his face and clinging to his ridges. A gentle, warm hand stroked his tangled hair and played over his right horn, the left was bolstered off the settee by a firm thigh that was also covered by a thin layer of ice and frost. It was in that moment that the emotional upheaval that he had experienced earlier in the day dissipated in the presence of his loving husband. His life-mate. The complete and utter terror of the temple, the loss and love, had resulted in this, the closeness between him and one perfect man. _His Thor_.

  
“Thor,” he murmured with a soft sigh. The large hand stopped. “Please. Don’t stop.”

  
The hand continued it’s gentle petting. “How are you feeling, Loki, my love?” the God of Thunder whispered, his voice barely louder than a distant thunder rumble. “You gave us all quite a scare. Is-is it the baby? Is it okay?”

  
The Jotunn sighed. “I-I’m alright. The baby is fine. Just fine.”

  
“D-Do you want to talk a-about...what happened?” The hand was joined by a second, both working their fingers through the rat’s nest that was on top of his head, detangling the ebony locks from his prominences.

  
The silence lengthened. Loki closed his eyes, torn as to whether to say anything at all, enjoying the feeling of Thor’s thick, warrior’s fingers combing through his hair. It was the king that broke the silence. “You don’t have to say anything, Loki. Just know that I am here, in case you want to.”

  
A small smile flitted about the thin blue lips, rubbing lightly against the raised lines on the leg below his head. “I felt my life crashing down around me...so many possibilities...so much that could have happened...” His voice was weak, tears pricking at the corners of his ruby eyes.

  
“But none of those things happened. It’s you and me, Loki, until the very end. I promise.” The Thunderer’s voice was soft, calming.

  
“But what if it wasn’t. What if it isn’t?” His voice was tiny, filled with doubt.

  
“Does that matter?” the All-Mother asked. “Does it matter if something else could have happened? Think of the now, Loki. The two of us, together. The babe within you. The three others next door. Whatever could have happened didn’t, which only leaves us here and now.” His hands began to braid the hair into uneven plaits. “I _love_ the here and now.”

  
Eyes still closed, the Jotunn whispered, “I do to.”  
____________________________________________

  
The twins and Thor lingered for another week of laughter and ruckus. The little terrors whirled about the palace, a little Thor and a little Loki, one a force of destruction, the other a source of mischief. While they were never overly destructive, and none of their antics could be linked directly back to them, the Jotunn knew that his stepchildren were the epicenter of everything that was going wrong. The amount of times the pair were reprimanded by the All-Father and All-Mother was rather excessive, which make Loki remember the saying, “Your children are just like you.” _Karma_.

  
Needless to say, he was really regretting all of the pranks he had pulled as a young Aesir, even though the twins made him smile, absently stroking his flat abdomen when he thought no one was looking. Thor, of course, noticed, his eyes never really strayed from him after the temple incident. He enjoyed the secretive little smile that played at the king’s lips when he caught the little gesture of the black claws playing against azure skin.

  
The day of departure was upon them and Loki did not want his family to leave, despite the trouble that the little ones got themselves into. He was gazing lovingly into his husband’s eyes, the impossibly deep baby blue orbs set in the most handsome face of all the worlds. Thor bent his head slightly and took his lips with his warm pair. The kiss deepened with the Jotunn nipping the Aesir’s lower lip, pulling playfully before diving in for more, drinking in the feeling as if he were a dying man in the desert who had just found a well.

  
“Ew. That’s yucky! _Daddy_!” Their littlest princess whispered to her twin who nodded slowly, a look of confusion and disgust on his mini-Loki-esque face.

  
The couple broke apart with a rich “ehehehe” and a rumbling chuckle. “Fine, fine. We’ll stop. But only because you insist.” Loki said jovially bending down to swoop the little one’s into his cool arms. “Now give me a hug and a kiss before you go.”

  
The twins complied, smiling broadly. “We’ll see you soon, right Blue?” Torsten asked.

  
“I will be back on the first of May, but we’ll scry often. Everyday.” The blue man ruffled the curls on the blonde and ebony heads in front of him. Smiling, his fangs displayed, he took his life-mate’s lips again, chastely this time, and whispered, “I love you, you big oaf.”

  
“And I love you too, Loki,” the blonde man responded, pressing his lips to the base of both of his horns before stepping back. He grasped his children to his sides, shielding them from the worst of the BiFrost rainbow energy. Smiling lovingly at the Jotunn and his adopted daughter, he bellowed up to the clouds, “We’re ready, Heimdall! Bring us home!” The small family disappeared amid the rush of the bridge, shouts of ‘Bye!’, and Thor’s wide smile, tears running down his cheeks.

  
As he stood at the Bifrost site, one arm wrapped around his daughter’s slim shoulders, Loki was filled with longing. He was going to miss his husband and the little ones. Jotunnheim, usually a month of excitement, reconciliation, and enjoyment, had suddenly become three weeks of loneliness and longing. He had used all of his self-restraint to let Thor go, to not throw himself into the rainbow beam of the Bifrost.

  
A massive hand clapped him on the shoulder. “It will get better, Loki,” Helblindi whispered. “You can take the next day or so off from your duties to - to adjust. The first couple of days without one’s life-mate is difficult.”

  
“Wuh-what do you mean?” the shorter Jotunn murmured softly, turning to look the King of Jotunnheim in the eye. “We’ve been apart before. It’s _never_ felt like this.”

  
“You were never bonded before,” the younger Jotunn spoke kindly. “Come, Loki-Brother. I will bring you to your rooms. Aiko-Niece, will you come with us?”

  
“Of course, Helblindi-Uncle. I will stay with him,” the woman whispered, taking her father’s Clawed hand in hers.

  
Loki allowed himself to be gently guided from the Bifrost site, further away from Thor, and to his chambers. Helblindi left him at his door, too large to fit through the opening in a dignified manner, but Aiko led him on. They slid into his nest together for the first time in months, the young girl pulling the sheets and furs around them, and holding him tightly.

  
He felt numb. His ridges were dulled, his eyes staring but not seeing, his ears plugged, his tongue silenced. It was like the world was darker without Thor. It was like he had a front row seat to watch the world die, immobile and uncaring.

  
He was not sure how long he lay there, curled in upon himself, a hand pressed firmly to his abdomen, sensing that purple spark as if it were the only light in his world. And, for the most part, it was. It was the only bit of Thor that remained.

  
That was what pulled him back to reality, the thought of his children. His children and his countries. The realms were his, and Jotunnheim and Asgard were the two most important to him. Their treaties needed to stand and be renewed to withstand the test of time. He was the only being that could do it, working with his life-mate and his brother. And the only way that it could come about would be if he stopped moping and got out of his nest and the comfort of his child’s arms.

  
“Blue?” Aiko said, surprised. “How are you feeling?”

  
“Better, thank you.” He grinned. “Now, let’s get out of bed, shall we? We have work to do.” He rolled out of the nest quickly and headed to the bathroom before rapidly turning around, hanging off the door jam. “How long?”

  
“Two hours.” His grin spread to a rather large smirk. “Well,” he chortled. “I have _always_ been the exception. Helblindi will be disappointed.” With that, he began his toilet, shaking his horns at the ridiculousness of it - needing to be beside one another always. It was rather old-fashioned. The Jotunn inhaled deeply: ozone, spring rain, and lemon grass - _Thor_. He’d never truly be alone, never again.  
__________________________________________________

  
The Council meetings were quite fascinating, she could see why her father enjoyed them so much, and why her stepfather did not. The negotiations between the Jotunn and the Aesir were rather tense, though Blue insisted that it had been getting better. Both sides, at least, seemed to recognize their mutual need for each other to survive in the Universe, especially since the two most powerful beings were of Aesir or Jotunn heritage and descent, and, they were married life-mates. The problem that generally occurred was that one race, usually the Jotunn, felt cheated by the other, usually the Aesir.

  
Her sketchpad was littered with notes along with various political comics of varying degrees of humor. The negotiations were taking rather long, drawing from early morning until late afternoon most days. Some days were better than others, filled with longer breaks due to the rapid agreements. As much as she hated to admit it, the recesses were the best part of her day because it gave her time to see Ren, who was not allowed in the chamber. He was not a nobleman, at least in the Jotunn court, though Helblindi liked him and saw his potential. He was being tutored by Elksa personally, especially regarding matters of the military and political affairs. He had a brilliant mind and a tenacious spirit, as well as knowledge of the Aesir, which made him invaluable.

  
The rest of her sketchpad was consumed by the half-Jotunn as he trained. It was awesome to see him, wielding a sword of ice, fashioned from his own seidr, taking on warriors that were four or five feet taller than he was and holding his own. He had yet to win, at least as far as she had seen, but his smaller stature allowed him to get a few good blows in before he was usually pushed to the ground under a large foot.

  
Ren was handsome, a pale blue with his soft, coppery eyes, his ridges almost a silvery tracing along his lithe form. He was similar to her father in that way, small with more Aesir features, though they were both very different. Of course, her father was full Jotunn but was Aesir in height and lacked the extra sharpness that seemed to flit about the full Jotunn frame. Warriors of the Frost Giants were even more different from the rest of their kin. They were usually broad as well as sharp about their joints. What really set them apart were their ridges and their ingrown armor. The ridges that carved their skin were very fine, almost invisible everywhere except their faces. Instead, their chests, legs, and arms grew calcified scales or plates, like Aesir armor with more pieces to allow for greater flexibility.

  
She had asked Loki about the plates, confused as to how they appeared on the warriors but were not seen on children, either of her uncles, or her life-mate. He had told her that it was part of the ceremony of becoming a warrior. Upon the completion of a soldier’s training, he would be told to go out to slay an Ice Creature, a massive beast with a spiked tail and back, horns growing from it’s face like jowls or mandibles, framing sharp, pointed teeth. If the warrior returned alive, bearing a spine from the slain beast, the warrior would drink a potion that bound the Jotunn’s seidr and it’s very bones. That would create the prominences. It would be painful, but, once completed, the Frost Giant would have custom made armor that could grow or retract depending on the situation. It was linked entirely through the seidr of the individual and, when worn, looked like gold or copper plate armor. It was an amazing evolutionary advancement in her mind and she hoped that Ren might earn his own one day. As she watched him get slammed to the ground again, she knew that, if it happened, it’d be in the distant future.   
________________________________________________

  
“Hello Darling,” the Jotunn smiled, tilting his scrying bowl to get a better view of his little family through the ice.

  
“Hello yourself, my husband,” Thor grinned back, his eyes large enough to put a puppy to shame. “How are you today?”

  
“Well enough, thank you.” Aiko was in the room, her pencil rapidly traversing the page of the sketchpad on her lap. His ruby eyes flicked to her before returning to his husband’s broad face with raised eyebrows. It had become their own little code, sharing that Loki could not say anything regarding the babe that dwelt within him. “And yourself?”

  
“As well as can be expected without you beside me. How is our beloved Aiko?”

  
“Say ‘Hello’ to Thor, please!” the Jotunn called over his shoulder to his daughter, aiming the bowl her way.

  
“Hi Thor!” She was so engrossed in her sketch that she didn’t look up for more than a few seconds. “How are Tory and Daryn? Drive you crazy yet?”

  
“Oh, I am exhausted and enjoy my mornings while they are at school. Of course, I’m busy in meetings then, but I wouldn’t trade it. They are only children, after all.”

  
Loki tilted the bowl back down to frame his face. “You’re not spoiling them, are you?”

  
His life-mate looked up, scrunching his mouth up. “Nope...not at all,” he lied blatantly, causing the Jotunn to laugh. “They are looking forward to seeing you soon. Only three more days, yes?”

  
“Yes, you big oaf, or have you forgotten how to check a calendar?” He rolled his crimson eyes. “Also, speaking of school, I have an idea.”

  
“Oh, really? Do tell.” The blonde man mocked him by taking his usual stance, head resting on chin with a wide-eyed, cheeky look on his face.

  
“We should teach classes.” Thor’s face fell, becoming serious. Before the other man could say anything, Loki raised a clawed hand. “Let me explain. If you and I, and Frigga and Aiko, and maybe Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, and Asha, when she’s in Asgard, taught classes, the future generations would be less racist and sexist than ours or Aiko’s or even the twins’. Please tell me you have not forgotten the ‘We’re going to kill all the Frost Giants’ lesson Daryn and Tory received last year.” The other man’s face fell with a shake of his head.

  
Loki continued, “If we taught subjects that we were good at, once a week or so, we could change lives - societies! Aiko would teach art, Asha healing, Lady Sif and the Warrior’s Three would teach basic combat techniques from all realms. Frigga could teach history and diplomacy, you could teach politics. I’d teach the use of seidr and potion-making. It’s a brilliant idea - please tell me you like it. We could start in September; new year, new classes, once a week.”

  
The other end of the connection was silent for a few seconds, making the Jotunn doubt his reasons behind raising that stupid idea. His hand brushed his abdomen absently. It had become a bit less defined, a thin layer of fat accumulated just under his belly button, unnoticeable to the eye. The child that had begun to change his body was the main reason behind this need that had grown within him. This babe would not be like the other children of the royal family - Aesir and beautiful. No, this little one would be half Jotunn - still precious, maybe even handsome, but definitely different from the Aesir that would surround it.

  
“Yes.” The deep rumble of his husband broke his concentration. His ruby orbs snapped up to meet the sky blue pair that looked at him in earnest. “I think it’s a brilliant idea. F-for the future.” He smiled knowingly, his gaze flowing down the thin blue body before him.

  
“Thank you,” whispered Loki. “For the future.”

 


	23. Chapter 23

  
**Frigga’s Chamber’s - Asgard**

  
The Queen Mother sat with her head in her hands. Her youngest son and her eldest grandchild would be returning today from their diplomatic trip to Jotunnheim. It had been over a month since the brigands were met on Midgard by the Avengers and the pride of Asgard. She had gotten no where regarding the identification of the mysterious and maniacal ‘She.’ Her spies had yielded nothing, and Heimdall, if he knew anything at all, had not been forth coming. As much as she hated to admit defeat, she realized that she was going to need the help of one, if not both, of her sons.   
____________________________________________

  
**Heimdall’s Conservatory, Bifrost - Asgard**

  
The first thing he felt was the heat. After spending a month in the chill of Jotunnheim, fresh out of it’s winter hibernation, the mild beginnings of an Asgardian May felt like a heavy wool fabric that clung to his every move. That warmth, however, was quickly replaced by another, starting at his lips and winding it’s way along his body, wrapping itself around his torso and, not caring in the slightest for the audience that was present, grinding into his nether region, stirring him to arousal. The heat passed his cold, blue lips forcefully, scraping along his fangs before stroking the roof of his mouth, raising a deep moan and a rumbling purr from the depths of his chest cavity.

  
Attempting to maintain some shred of dignity, he gently placed a cool hand against the blazing fire that surrounded him and drew his head back, gasping for air as the purr was silenced. “Thor,” he breathed, smiling at the flushed face, bright and shining eyes, and swollen mouth before him. “How I’ve missed you.”

  
The other man flushed and nuzzled his head into the crook of his neck, inhaling the icy, wintery scent that still clung to him like a second skin. “And I you, Loki.”

  
The Jotunn’s ruby orbs caught sight of Frigga and the twins, who were happily greeting Aiko. She was kneeling, presenting the little ones with small treats that she had picked up in the markets of Utgard, little toys, sweets, and scraps of brightly colored cloth. He had also brought the twins a gift from Jotunnheim - a new book of tales, centering around the first great Jotunn King, his ancestor and namesake, Utgardloki. He hoped that they would enjoy it, as they were beginning to outgrow the fairytales, many of which they had memorized.

  
The last figure, usually so statuesque, caught the blue man’s gaze. Heimdall, the Guardian of Asgard and the Seer of the Nine had an impassive face, yet his eyes of molten gold told another story. There was something lurking beneath the surface, something that he was conflicted about. With a small tilt of his horns, Loki made it clear that he would be back to see the Watcher later.

  
Breaking free of Thor’s tight but much wanted embrace, the Jotunn greeted the rest of his family, pulling the twin’s newest book from thin air. The trick, a rather simple pocket spell, earned him many hugs and kisses as well as made him promise to begin reading the book at bedtime that evening.

  
When the twins had moved off, skipping back down the Rainbow Bridge, Loki turned at last to his Mother with a smile. He placed a chaste kiss on her soft cheek, which flushed under his attentions.

  
“How do you fare, Mother?” he inquired, embracing her gently before stepping back, aware that the winter still clung to his skin.

  
“Fine, Loki.” A small, finely boned hand cupped his cheek. “I fare just fine. I would, however, like to discuss a matter with you in my study, maybe after you have settled in?”

  
With a knowing smile, he inclined his head. “Of course.” The shorter woman squeezed his arm as she walked away, knowing full well that she probably wouldn’t see him for a couple hours or more. After all, she too had read up about the Jotunn during and after his banishment. She understood what the last few weeks must have been like for her two sons. They needed time together, time before the weight of their titles came crashing down upon them.  
_______________________________________________

  
**Loki’s Chambers, Bilskirnir - Asgard**

  
They had barely made it through the door, which slammed behind them, causing the Jotunn to flinch against the loud noise. “Sorry,” Thor whispered, his beard tickling his ear, which he promptly kissed as recompense.

  
“Oh, shut up you oaf and _take me to bed_. This baby has made me so horny, it’s ridiculous,” he commanded, his voice barely louder than a hiss through his sharp teeth.

  
The Aesir man snickered, his eyes lighting up at the promises of what was to come. “ _Horny_!” the blonde chuckled, gently caressing one of the spiraled arches that protruded from his husband’s brow. “Get it: _Horn -y_?”

  
The Jotunn rolled his ruby eyes at the atrocious pun. “I don’t even care how horrid that was. Just _TAKE ME!_ ”

  
He pushed the mass of muscle before him, enjoying the firmness of the form before him as well as it’s undeniable flush of heat. He wrapped his thin arms around the body of his life-mate, his claws raking along the pesky fabric that he still wore. With a dismissive wave of his claws, any scrap of fabric disappeared, causing both men to gasp as their flushed members rubbed against each other.

  
The sensation, something that the blue man had been craving for nearly a month, swept through him, pushing aside any sense of rational thought or reason, any need to stand on ceremony or maintain his image as All-Father. No, he let the animalistic nature of his people pulse through him, claws scraping, hips snapping, tongue tasting and teeth nipping. Thor knew where to tease him and where to bring him pleasure and he was reveling in it, lost in his basest nature.

  
After they had finished, far from exhausted but intelligently regarding their need to continue their duties, the men lay entwined on a blanket of furs before a fire in Loki’s hearth. The blaze, a magical creation that gave off little or no heat, crackled merrily, casting shadows on their sated forms. Thor’s thick fingers were occupied with their favorite intimate pastime, tracing his husband’s Jotunn ridges, causing the more reserved man to whine, moan, gasp, and purr while his claws worked through the matted blonde hair and soft beard before him.

  
One of the fingers stopped over his changing body, caressing the slight softening between his hips, directly above his hidden sack and below his belly button. “Oh,” the God of Thunder whispered. “Hello my little angel.”

  
Loki chuckled, his own fingers joining Thor’s there. “It’s starting to make me pudgy. As you probably noticed, my chest is beginning to develop as well. It’s certainly more sensitive.”

  
“How long should we wait?” The other man’s impossibly pure blue eyes stared back into his before returning to the other man’s stomach.   
“The end of the month, if my estimations are correct, will be when I will need to begin binding, unless we use misdirection...or I could place a glamor on it. I won’t be noticeably showing until mid-June. Then, well, then I become significantly less attractive.”

  
A large, warm hand covered his blabbering mouth. “ _You_ will _never_ cease to be attractive. So you put on a little weight? That is what is feeding our child and, I must say, that nothing, _nothing_ will ever be more attractive to me than you, swollen with our child.”

  
Loki smiled, placing a chaste kiss onto the pink lips before him. So thankful for finding the brilliant man before him.  
_______________________________________________

  
**Frigga’s Chambers - Asgard**

  
Two hours later, on the dot, her youngest son slipped into her private solar, a concerned smile on his face, covering his undoubted embarrassment of her knowledge of what he had spent the last two hour doing. “Hello Mother. I am...sorry to have kept you waiting.” He bowed his head slightly, showing his respect for the woman before him. “How are you faring?”

  
“I am well, Loki, though there is something that has been weighing heavily on my mind. Something that I wanted to right myself, but I am woefully incompetent. I am in need of your generous help, All-Father.” She gestured to the empty cushion on the chaise beside her. “Please sit with me. It will be like the days long past.”

  
The Jotunn complied, sitting beside his parent with a small gap between them so as not to cause the woman discomfort. She took his lined hand and squeezed it, laying the cool surface on her lap with a warm smile, her legs protected by the layers of Asgardian fabric that covered them. “Now, Mother, what appears to be the trouble? And how may I help?”

  
The smile slipped from her coral lips, allowing wrinkles to set in about her mouth. “I have been searching for the mysterious ‘She,’ the woman behind every wrong you have suffered, every awful thing that has occurred in the Nine in the last six years.” She turned away, her head bowing slightly with disappointment. “I have been unsuccessful.”

  
“Why did you feel the need to hunt this...this murderess without me? This woman, as you have so eloquently put it, is the woman behind everything we have suffered, and you thought that it would be wise to find her on your own?!” His voice had raised to a dull roar as his claws clenched. Gathering calm about him, cursing the hormones that coursed through his system. “I’m sorry for yelling. I-I just can’t lose you.” His ruby gaze snapped up to her silvery eyes. “You’re my mother. The only one I have ever known.”

  
She smiled again, reassuringly squeezing his claws. “And you, Loki are my son. No one else’s. You always have been and you always will be. Which is why we must stop this woman before ‘She’ strikes again. Especially with you being in your current state...”

  
“Mother.” His brow furrowed, his eyebrows wrinkling as his mouth turned downwards.

  
“Okay, okay,” she chided sweetly. “All the more reason to find and capture ‘She’.”

  
“Yes, all the more reason to finish this once and for all. What would you like me to do?”  
________________________________________________

  
**Heimdall’s Observatory, Bifrost - Asgard**

  
He knew that the clack of his claws as they connected with the Rainbow Bridge was not something that should have bothered him, but old habits died hard. He was uncloaked, Heimdall knew of his approach and yet he disliked that his own steps gave away his position to the man that he most feared - the man that could see everything, including his once traitorous heart.  
His horned feet carried him past the dais that the man in the golden armor stood upon, knowing that it was better for the Watcher to address him than to interrupt his watch. Instead, he looked out at the trillions of stars, remembering how his life-mate had proposed to him here, on this very spot, and how he had returned the favor, asking Thor in return. The stars seemed to represent their future: bright and filled with infinite possibilities.

  
“My Lord,” a deep, rich voice addressed him from the dais, “Thank you for coming to see me.”

  
The Jotunn turned to face the man behind him. “Lord Heimdall. It is my pleasure to meet with you on better grounds than usual.” He smiled, his lips pressed together. “I hope that we can continue to be amiable in the future.”

  
The tall man returned the smile, tipping his head slightly. “Of course, My Lord. It is my duty to see all and, All-Father, you have impressed me so far. You are not the impetuous, misguided child that you were before Paradise Prison.” He fixed his swirling molten gold gaze on the blue man before him, meeting his equally unsettling blood-red eyes. “I hope that you continue along the path set before you. However, you will have need of the information that I will now give you.”

  
The All-Father raised an eyebrow but politely inclined his horns and averting his gaze, ready to listen. The Guardian focused his gaze out into the stars once more. “You have been looking for the mastermind behind all of the attacks.”

  
Loki inhaled sharply, his eyes flying to the dark face of the Watcher. “You know who is behind it.”

  
“No.” The syllable set the Jotunn’s heart sinking through his body and to the floor. He sighed, rubbing his facial ridges as he did so, berating himself internally for getting his hopes up. The deep, knowing voice of Heimdall continued, his face still completely impassive. “I do, however, have a hunch. I suggest that you return to the chambers you share with your...life-mate and discuss this with my younger sibling.”

  
The All-Father cocked his head. “The Lady Sif?” He raised an eyebrow. “How interesting.” He smiled. “Thank you, Heimdall for your help. And, more importantly, thank you for your unwavering service to the Realm of Asgard. You are invaluable.”

  
He watched the dark lips quirk upwards in a slight smile as the noble, helmeted head bowed. “Thank you, My Lord.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Loki’s Chambers, Bilskirnir - Asgard**

  
_One Week Previous_

  
He came here to think, abandoning his glorified bachelor pad, the rooms that he had shared with Jane, for a reminder of his life-mate. The Jotunn and Dwarves were working diligently on the new wing of Bilskirnir for his family, but it would not be ready for some months and he needed time alone, in a place where no one would think to look, now.

  
He sat on the emerald settee, soaking in the color scheme that his husband enjoyed so much, even if he now found that it clashed with his current skin tone. He ran a hand along the soft cushion, thinking of how it was so contrary to the rough granite of Loki’s skin but not as fine as the ridges that cut through it. “One more week, my Love. Seven days until we are reunited,” he whispered into the emptiness of the room, cluttered with books and bric-a-brac that the Jotunn had collected since they were boys, since they had been brothers.

  
A soft knock sounded against the black walnut of the thick, carved doors, startling the king from his thoughts. “Enter,” he responded, guessing that it was the twins back from school and ready to talk about their days.

  
The doors swung open to reveal the fit form of Asgard’s only female warrior. “Sif!” Thor exclaimed, leaping up in his surprise. “What brings you to our rooms?”

  
The woman closed the doors tightly behind her, the sound echoing around the room’s vaulted ceilings. “Thor,” the woman said, her face completely serious and lacking it’s typical humor. “I have something I would like to discuss with you.”

  
“Does it have to be here?” Thor asked, gesturing to his life-mate’s sitting room.

  
Sif glanced around. “Yes.” Her steely brown gaze flew back to her companion’s face. “This way I can be sure that we will not be found or overheard.”

  
Thor’s brow furrowed. _It must be something of dire importance then_. “In that case, Sif, please, have a seat.”

  
The woman sat, rather daintily for a warrior and fixed her sharp eyes on the blonde man who sat opposite her, his face written with confusion, while his eyes remained friendly, trusting. “Have you ever thought about what was supposed to happen Thor? About the way life would have been without Odin’s sticky fingers at the end of the War with the Jotunn?”

  
A flicker of her gaze across his face showed that he was not quite following. _Good. The man remains an idiot. A noble and ferocious warrior, a berserker of sorts, but an idiot_. “You know that we were betrothed? At least that is what I was told. That was why I was sent to live here at the castle when I was but a little child-”

  
“You came here because of Heimdall. Your parents died and you had no one to care for you, not with Heimdall’s duties consuming him,” Thor replied.

  
“Or so you were told. It was arranged between my parents and the All-Father shortly after my birth that I would wed you.”

  
“Well,” the king said, clapping his hands together, “As you can see: that did not happen.”

  
“No, it didn’t.” The dark haired woman leant forward and then stood, spinning on her heel and walked purposefully towards the doors. With one of her calloused hands sitting on the gold handle, she paused and looked back at the God of Thunder as he stood aghast among his life-mate’s possessions. “You have a week to decide.”

  
“Decide what?” Thor called, more confused than ever.  
_______________________________________________

  
**Loki’s Chambers, Bilskirnir - Asgard**

  
_Present_

  
The knock did not surprise the king this time. It had been a week since his rather strange encounter with one of his oldest friends. He had yet to make any sense of it, except that there was a contract that Odin had abandoned so that he could marry Jane. A contract with Sif’s long dead parents that he knew nothing about. “Come in, Sif,” he said, not turning towards the door. “I’ve been expecting you.”

  
The door opened a bit forcefully, containing the excitement and nerves that flowed through the woman’s body. “Have you come to a decision, Thor?” the warrior asked from the doorway. “What are you going to do?”

  
“Nothing,” he replied. “Nothing at all.” He turned to face the woman before him. “I am sorry, Sif, that nothing came of your contract but I do not understand why you are discussing it now.”

  
The woman strode through the room, her boot’s hard, leather heels clacked across the marble. “You don’t _understand_?” The words were hissed through clenched teeth.

  
“It’s a good thing that I do.” The new voice caused both of the room’s occupants to jump as Loki strode from his bed chamber. “Sif. Kindly back away from my husband.” His rough voice was sharp, hard and unforgiving like the winter storms that raged within him.

  
She glowered at the blue man as he strode forward, hands empty but threateningly clawed. She lunged forward, grabbing onto the king and drawing her blade. “Stay where you are!” she ordered.

  
“What makes you think that I’d just _let_ you walk out of here with my husband on your arm? What makes you think that he would let you do that, Sif? Because of some mysterious contract that you felt the need to mention _now_? _I think not._ ”

  
“What make _you_ think that _you’re_ going to get out of here alive, _Frost Giant?_ ”

  
The All-Father stopped, slightly confused. “I am terribly sorry that your parents were killed during the Great War at the hands of the Jotunn, Sif. But, with everything that has happened in recent years, why do you continue your vendetta? What have I done to wrong you so?” A hand flew to his abdomen, causing the king to wriggle, the blade pressed under his chin splitting the skin and causing the warrior woman’s eyebrow to cock. When he began speaking again, his voice was a faint whisper, both of his hands in the air.

  
“Sif. I understand that we have had our problems in the past, but why do you wish to see me dead? What have I done that is so despicable that you feel that you must take my life and make yourself queen with Thor at your side?”

  
His mind was scrambling over the facts that were laid before him. _Sif was betrothed to Thor, a betrothal that was null and void when he had met Jane for the second time. After he had brought back a certain war criminal. HIM - His path, begun by his claiming from the snow, that is why Sif wanted him dead. If he was dead, Thor could honor the treaty as he was supposed to, as he would have, if he had not met Jane on his banishment._

  
_But why now? Why didn’t she make a move sooner? If she believed that he was the cause of all of her strife, why did she wait until now?_

  
_What if **she** hadn’t?_

  
“Sif. Move away from Thor. He has no quarrel with you. Let’s finish this - just the two of us. The way you wanted it to be from the start but were too cowardly to attempt. _That’s_ why you found others, wasn’t it? Aslaug, Lorelei and Amora, the Brigands and the misguided Byleistr. You manipulated them with promises of wealth and position, better lives, if they killed me. So let’s finish this they way it should have started. You and me.” He raised his hands in a sign of surrender.

  
The woman scowled. “But it’s not just the _two of us_ , is it Monster? You’re growing a creature in your womb - a half-bred beast. An abomination, just like it’s _mother_!” She spat out the final word, pushing Thor aside in his wide-eyed realization, and rushed towards the Jotunn, double-edged sword raised.

  
Loki met her with an ice blade in each hand, sparking with seidr. His body was filled with rage at the woman who threatened his family, his life-mate, their unborn child. His vision went red. All he could see was the smaller woman in front of him, fighting like the trained soldier that she was, beaten back by the berserker who resided within the winter, the storms of Jotunnheim contained within one, runty shell. He roared, the sound terrifying his rational thought that had retreated into the back of his mind, causing the whites in her eyes to show. It was then that he knew that he had beaten her, the mysterious ‘She’ that Byleistr had spoken of on the plains of Paradise. His hand, coated with the Withering Touch gripped her throat and cut off her air. “YIELD!” he growled, squeezing a bit, watching her eyes pop with sickening satisfaction.

  
“Ne-vr...” she rasped back, jamming her blade into his chest. It barely made a scratch, the blade shattering against his granite skin as a piece imbedded in his pectoral. He gasped in shock at the sensation of blood oozing from his chest. He dropped her, backing away as his fury melted within him.

  
Thor, seeing the navy pulse from his husband, yelled his own battle cry. It reinvigorated his rage and he threw her forcefully against the wall. Her head collided with a pillar with a resounding thud. The sound caused the red to retreat from his gaze.

  
“Oh, nononono,” the Jotunn gasped as the woman slumped bonelessly to the floor. He rushed to the woman who lay crumpled on the floor, his claws flying to her neck. “Please, please...”

  
His begging was greeted by a light fluttering of a pulse. _Alive_. He closed his eyes and released the breath that he had been holding. A large, warm hand rested on his slim shoulder.

  
“Loki.” His husband’s voice was somber but gentle. “Are you alright?” Unable to find his voice, he simply nodded once. “And the babe?”

  
“Safe.”

  
Arms wrapped around him. He was shaking. How had he not realized that he was shaking? Quivering like a leaf in the Autumn. He grabbed the arms that supported him and grasped them in his claws. “Thor,” he breathed. “I-I am a-a monster.”

  
“No. No. Don’t you ever say that,” his husband said forcefully, shaking him bodily. “No one has the right to call you that. You did this for the Nine. For Asgard and Jotunnheim. For Aiko and Frigga and the twins. For our unborn child. For us. You were protecting us, just as I protected you. And I love you for it. Every minute of every day, and if that makes me the husband of a monster, so be it - because the monster that I am holding close to me is one hundred times a better being than the one that lies there. You fought for us and no one else.”

  
He blinked, feeling tears course down his face and cling to his ridges. “I love you, Thor. I love you so, so much.”

  
“I know.” A tender kiss was planted on his wet and icy cheek. “What are we going to do about...her?”

  
“I have an idea,” he said, regaining his purpose with the strength of his life-mate. “ _She_ won’t like it.”

  
“Should we bring her before the Council?” The Thunderer, despite her vicious attack against him and against his family, still saw the unconscious woman as his companion at arms. Loki couldn’t blame the man, which is why he was going to do what he planned to do.

  
“No,” he whispered. “I don’t want to tarnish her good name or that of her loyal brother. No, the Lady Sif will be remembered as she should be: a mighty warrior who fell in battle. No one needs to know about her jealousy that turned into madness. Even I would not wish that upon her.”

  
He winced as he pulled the shard of steel from his chest and healed it without a trace. Then, he refocused his attention on the woman before him. Tentatively, he reached out a Clawed hand and laid it upon the unconscious form of one of Asgard’s fiercest warriors. Her form melted away and morphed into another. This one was rugged with flaming hair and a pudgy body. Her teeth were stained and her shift was ragged and torn.

  
“We need to bring her to the cells,” Loki said, slowly rising to his still unsteady feet. “Please, pick her up and follow me.”

  
“Why did you place a glamour on her?” Thor asked quietly and he hefted the now heavier body.

  
“In case someone sees us. I don’t want word escaping about Sif. If we are seen with her on our way to the dungeons - just think about it Thor.”

  
“You are right, as usual. Lead on.”

  
The pair stealthily exited the chamber, surprised that no one had some looking for them through the commotion. The battle that had raged had not exactly been quiet. They quickly realized that it was because it was dinner time, the noise from the many dining halls ringing through the palace. Loki smiled, glad of the lack of people. Of course, the cells would be guarded but a quick invisibility spell could slip them past, so long as they were quick and quiet.

  
Holding up and hand outside of the doors, the Jotunn turned to Thor. “I’m going to place an invisibility spell on you and Sif. Please, do not make a sound until we have reached her cell.”

  
The king nodded grimly, shifting the weight he carried as his husband weaved his seidr over him. It was a simple spell, one that he had mastered in his youth. He was glad of it now, as his seidr was going to be put to the test very soon.

  
Smiling reassuringly at what now appeared to be empty air he knocked firmly on the immense golden doors. One swung open a crack. “State your name.”

 

“Loki Laufeyson, All-Father of the Nine, Prince Consort of Thor Odinson, King of Asgard.”

  
The door opened wider, thankfully wide enough for Thor to walk through without trouble, and the prince strode in. He was greeted by a pair of saluting guards in their military best, horned helms and gilded spears shining in the dim light of the cell block. “Do you need an escort, All-Father?” the soldier, the one who had spoken earlier, asked, head bowed.

  
“No,” the Jotunn responded kindly. “I have been here before. I know my way. Thank you...”

 

“Fiske Walidson.”

  
“Thank you Fiske Walidson for your offer and your vigilance. You and your companion should be commended.”

  
“Thank you, All-Father.” The soldiers turned to face their charge, the rows of cells stretching on into the dark underbelly of Asgard.

 


	25. Chapter 25

  
**The Deepest, Darkest Cell, the Dungeons, the Palace - Asgard**

  
Stepping through the intricate golden lattice of the barrier, Thor right behind him, Loki surveyed the cell. It had been the cell that had held him upon his return to Asgard after his attempt to conquer Midgard. The walls, besides the seidr-based screen-like entrance, were rough-cut marble with high sconces at each juncture. There was a cot in the far corner that was rather larger, built to fit someone taller than him. The cot had a relatively soft straw mattress, if memory served and a home spun blanket and pillow. A small hole was cut in the floor for waste and a bucket, magicked to remain full, sat with it’s contents of water beside a bar of lye soap. It was isolated, dimly lit, and lonely. Exactly what his charge needed. She would not be pleased once he was through with her, and he did not need her riling the other prisoners or the guards.

  
“Set her down on the floor, please.” His husband complied, tenderly placing the glamoured woman onto the cobbles at the center of the room and stepped back, watching as the glamour dissolved in a green mist to reveal the slowly waking Sif. His eyes flashed to the ruby orbs that had hardened as the took in the dark haired woman who lay before him.

  
“What are you planning on doing, Loki?” he whispered, afraid for his once-friend for the first time.

  
“I am giving her a lot to think about.” His voice was harsh and biting. He flicked his gaze to the blonde beside him. “She will not be pleased but she will come out of this reborn and with new purpose.”

  
His blood-red eyes flashed back to the waking woman. “Or at least that is what I hope.”

  
They remained that way for a long time: Sif regaining consciousness, Thor watching his life-mate, and Loki glaring at Sif. When the prisoner sat up, holding the back of her head with one of her hands, the All-Father broke the silence.

  
“Lady Sif, you are being charged with plotting against Asgard, the organization of foul crimes against the Nine, and attempted murder. What say you to this charge?”

  
The woman, noticing her surroundings for the first time met his gaze with a look of utter distain. “I say that I spit on you and your vigilante justice. You may be All-Father but you have no right to enact punishment on me with only the brainwashed idiot to watch.” Thor flinched but made no move or sound to counteract her insult.

  
“Did you witness my trial, Lady Sif?” His azure face softened against her anger, making her growl.

  
“ _No_ ,” she bristled.

  
“No, indeed.” He smirked, a fang playing at his lower lip. “That was because Odin used his power and his influence to bypass the Council in order to keep some shred of my good name. I am giving you that same honor, Lady Sif, to show you that, despite what you have done, you have also proven yourself to be a worthy companion to the Warriors Three and champion of Asgard. Your good name will not be tarnished.

  
“But, your crimes are grievous and, thus, a punishment has been selected. One that I deem just and fair. One that, like myself, you may learn from.” He took a deep breath before intoning, “I, Loki, All-Father, hereby declare you, Sif, guilty of all charges. You shall spend your days in this, the deepest and darkest cell in Asgard, until you have been found worthy of redemption.”

  
The woman scowled, rolling her brown eyes. “That, Loki _Ergi, Liesmith, Runt of Laufey, Scourge of New York, Monster of Jotunnheim_ , is the weakest decision you have made yet. You think some time in the dark is going to cure my hatred of _you_? Of your _people_? You are mistaken.”

  
“Oh no,” he chuckled, his ‘ehehehe’ dying in the soundproofed cell, though his menacing smirk remained. “They are _our_ people now, Sif.”

  
He shot out a hand and gripped the top of her head, his claws biting through her flesh and scraping her cranium. Her screams fell on deaf ears as the room was filled with the rush of transformative seidr, fleeing it’s host in torrents of blue and gold and latching onto the Aesir woman before it. Her body slowly charred, burned by the Withering Touch as it spread from the hand on the top of her head. Brown hair fell from it’s place in waves of chocolate only to regrow, shorter, black and bristly like a buzz cut. The blackened skin tore as limbs distorted and lengthened, the joints sharpening to jagged edges. Armor was sucked into the chest, arms and shins, fuzing with the new, blue skin. The scream of rage turned to a roar of pain, revealing lengthening and sharpening teeth and a deeper, rougher voice. Lines, chasing other lines of lighter blue or silver began to blaze along the body, now larger than Thor by about a foot and a half. Once small and delicate features such as hands and feet grew massive and weathered, tearing boots and gauntlets, growing vicious, ebony claws, sandpaper callouses, high arches and hooked toes. Any identifying element of sexuality was neutralized, becoming ambiguous and, though it was mercifully hidden behind that scrap of skirt and loincloth, intersex.

  
The All-Father stepped back, releasing the re-proportioning head, and staggered into Thor’s waiting arms, exhausted from the exertion. His eyes roved over his handiwork as it’s newer, larger lungs heaved against the slight humidity of the room.

  
The new Jotunn was like nothing that he had ever seen. The ridge patterns were beautifully delicate, though only the markings on the face, upper arms, and legs could be truly observed. The chest was heavily plated below a thin Mantle and above an equally small Heart, obscuring any other Jotunn ridges on the azure skin. The new being lacked a Crown, Horns, and Bergelmir’s Tears, it’s face was etched with curving lines, from temple to jowl and a straight line from the base of it’s large skull, obscured by the short, coarse hair, to the tip of the thin, feminine nose and down, under the strong chin. The arms, when visible between the armor plating, where carved with Claws and the broad back and sides had hints of Wings and a Mantle.

  
The Jotunn that the lines traversed was not tall, but was far from being a runt. While it was difficult to discern it’s exact height while it lay, propped on an elbow against the rough cobbles, he guessed that it was somewhere between seven and a half and eight feet tall. Small by Jotunn standards but large enough to be considered an insider - a member of society. Not an outcast based on it’s inability to mate. If it realized that this new body promised a new life, where it could find new friends, maybe reconcile with old ones, find a new position within his brother-in-law’s military. Maybe even find a life-mate.

  
Ruby eyes, wide and frightened traced larger, heavier limbs before rising to view the couple before it with a snarl. It’s scarlet orbs quickly clouded with complete hatred.

  
“Now, now Sif,” Loki smirked. “None of that. That’s what put you here in the first place. You have been given the opportunity for a new life - I hope that you will realize that one day.”

  
“YOU HAVE CONDEMNED ME TO BE A MONSTER!” The new voice was rough, like boulders colliding against a mountainside, and was consumed by despair and loathing.

  
“No, Sif,” the older Jotunn whispered in stark contrast. “I have chosen to give you a new family. The Jotunn are powerful and proud and strong. Everything that you revere - everything that you _were_ before jealousy and madness took you. Your own prejudice has kept you from seeing that. One day, I hope you will.”

  
With that, he strode from the cell, Thor by his side, grateful for the barrier that sprang up after them, cutting off the roar of fury that issued from the newly formed Jotunn. The exhausted sorcerer turned to face the translucent barrier, watching the prisoner rage. Claws scraped over new skin, caught on unfamiliar ridges and calcifications, trying to tear away the blue as if it were paint or ink, something that could be eliminated with enough force. It rolled around on the floor, threw it’s new, larger and more powerful body into the walls, roaring in anger and loss. He knew what it was feeling, what it was going through. It would take time, but, without Sif’s imminent threat hanging over them, that was something that they had.

  
“Loki,” Thor whispered, wrapping his arms around the man in front of him. “Know that I support you in everything you do, but I cannot grasp what you did to Sif. She-she...how?”

  
The Jotunn, eyes still fixed on the taller figure as it crashed about it’s cell. “Technically, Sif has not specified how Sif wants to be addressed. Our reborn friend may decide to identify as male or neither.” He angled his head, avoiding knocking his husband with his horns, and looked at him lovingly. “It may not make sense to Sif, or you, now for that matter but I swear I put a lot of thought into this. Sif will be fine, once our prisoner comes to terms with what has happened, Sif will move forward and find a place among my people, the people of Jotunnheim.”

  
“But,” a kiss was planted on his cheek, just above his ridges, “How did you do what you just did? Create a Jotunn from an Aesir. Odin told you upon your return that changing one’s appearance beyond glamour in adulthood was impossible.”

  
“To an Aesir sorcerer, maybe.” He spun away from the raging Jotunn behind the golden window. “I have learned much about my people in this last month, including our greatest secret. Have you ever wondered where all the Jotunn warriors came from? Especially after the Great War. We were decimated, wiped out to near extinction.”

  
Thor’s eyes were serious, greying in the dim light as he nodded solemnly. “Yes, I know. I spent hours in the library after your imprisonment researching the Jotunn. I just assumed that they found mates and rebuilt their race.”

  
“But where did the mates come from, Thor? We are not inbred, though that may seem surprising. Where do all the bloodlines come from that make markings such as mine so rare? Or,” the All-Father reached up and brushed a strand of blonde hair off of his life-mate’s forehead. “The more important question is: How many Aesir soldiers didn’t return to Asgard? How many bodies were lost?”

  
“Many - hundreds. It was assumed that they were lost in avalanches or trapped in manipulated ice.” A warm hand covered his cool one, pressing it gently against his life-mate’s cheek.

  
Loki smiled lovingly. “It was because of the Withering Touch, Darling.”

  
“The Touch is reversible. So long as it doesn’t touch the heart, the poison can be filtered out.”

  
Seeing that Thor was not making a connection, the All-Father pulled away and offered a clawed hand to the taller man. “Come. We can finish this conversation in our solar. I cannot divulge all of my secrets where there many be unwanted listeners.”

  
The couple strolled through the cell block, drawing the attentions of the inmates, many of whom had not seen the pair. Some of them did not even realize that the horned Jotunn was the second prince of Asgard. The thought of their sovereign Lord, the man holding them deep below his palace, with a monster, even a tiny one, caused the prisoners to jeer. They rushed at the barriers, thrown back by the seidr that kept them trapped within.

  
Loki ignored them, having finally come to terms with being exactly who and what he was, and smiled warmly at Thor, who was much less used to being berated for loving something that they deemed to be so wrong. “Ignore them,” the Jotunn whispered. “They are jealous and stupid. Closed-minded.”

  
The king gave a small smile which quickly dropped as a ragged and unkept prisoner shouted, “Abdicate the throne you _ergi_! And with a f**king monster?! What gives you the right?”

  
With a flick of his wrist, Loki shot the Vanir man back into the rock wall of his cell, his head connecting with a solid crack. “What happened to ignore them?” Thor asked, an eyebrow cocked.

  
“No one, and I mean **no one** , calls you an ergi,” he growled, grinning at the soldiers as he inclined his head and continuing through the solid, gold doors, shutting the dungeons behind him. His hand was met with a reassuring squeeze.

  
“Thank you,” the blonde man whispered, kissing the side of his azure head tenderly.

  
“Come along, you big oaf.” Loki tugged at his husband’s hand and took off at a brisk pace. “I can’t wait much longer.”

  
“Really?!” Thor hissed, grabbing his husband’s waist, “Now?!”

  
Murmuring a quick spell, the two men found themselves in the solar of what was to be their new chambers. “ _Yes_ ,” the younger man insisted. “But first, you _must_ understand. You will be the only one that does. The only one who knows of Sif’s true fate.” He paused, “And Heimdall, though I suppose he already knows.”

  
Pulling his husband down onto a stone bench that would become a window seat, he took the king’s hands in both of his blue ones. “Has anyone seen any bodies that died of the Withering Touch? Think of your research, Thor.”

  
The other man’s eyebrows screwed together as he concentrated. “No. No bodies were recovered.” His eyes widened. “The Touch creates a Jotunn if it’s allowed to spread.”

  
“Yes,” the All-Father whispered quietly. “It is a different sort of deadly. It takes time, sometimes days to set in and is excruciating. I sped the process with Sif, there was no need for the suffering to last longer than necessary. Once you are Touched, you change and are no longer recognizable as yourself. You become completely Jotunn. An Aesir in a Jotunn body. Imprisoned at first, until you realize that there are two options: Imprisonment for eternity with forced breeding, rebolstering a society you hate and refused to belong to or join a society that has treated you kindly and with respect through your recovery from a very grave poisoning. One where they could have a greater station than the one they had just left. It would take time, but it was a way to save the species. Let’s face it Thor, every other race is too small. Only two half-bred Jotunn exist that we know of: Ren, whose bearer is relatively small, like Sif, and the other, who was carried while his bearer was in Aesir form.”

  
“My father,” Thor whispered, looking into his ruby orbs. The Jotunn gave a small, forgiving smile and a single nod.

  
“How did you figure it out?” he asked quietly, rubbing his hands up and over the broad shoulders of the Thunderer.

  
“When you were talking about our child, you said that it would be ‘at least half-Jotunn.’ That wouldn’t be possible unless I also carry Jotunn genes within me. Frigga is Vanir and no one knows of Odin’s mother.” The king leaned into the coolness of the lean blue body beside him, his hands moving to caress the slightly loose skin between his lover’s hips.

  
“You miscounted though, my Love,” he whispered sensually into the other man’s blue, ridged ear.

  
“Oh?” Loki stated, eyebrows raised over a cocky, yet knowing smile.

  
“Yes,” he whispered, fingers stroking the skin and moving lower teasingly. “This is our child, destined to be the most beautiful baby in all the Nine. That makes three.” His teasing fingers traced the ridges on the inside of his thigh while the other flicked one of his acutely sensitive nipples. The Jotunn gasped, his hips jerking.

  
“ _Thor_!” His arms wrapped around the other man’s neck as he slid into the broad, heated lap beside him.

  
The warm breath from his husband’s mouth, placed above his ear, tickled him, causing him to wriggle, hips bucking. “And who’s to say we can’t have more?”

  
“ _Oh, Thor_.” His lips descended onto his life-mate’s neck, nipping and sucking over the hot pulse that resided there. The other man’s teeth and lips suckled his ear, causing him to scratch his claws along the worn leather the other man wore. “Clothes. Off. _NOW_!”

 


	26. Chapter 26

  
**Asgard**

  
The following morning, the Jotunn extricated himself from the tight, warm embrace of his snoring husband, and swiftly made his way from the palace and through the slumbering streets of his home. He would not have left the comfort of his lover’s arms except that he felt compelled to see Heimdall and explain what had happened with his sister. He slowly opened the doors of the stables and was greeted by the smell of leather and fresh cut hay, the rustling of straw, and the soft nickering of the horses.

  
The Jotunn, enjoying the crunch of the sawdust and straw beneath his horned feet, walked towards the last stall. He had never purchased another horse since his return, his brother’s war charger had borne him in his need. Now, he had inherited the finest horse in all the Nine and he had yet to ride the poor beast.

  
He magicked a carrot from the kitchens and looked into the largest stall at the end of the stable. The massive black stallion eyed him speculatively, petulantly tossing his head, his mane flying. “Hello Sleipnir,” Loki whispered. “Hello beautiful boy.”

  
He offered his hand, carrot extended in friendship. The horse stamped two of his heavy hooves, eyeing the treat curiously. “I know that you’ve been given free rein since Odin’s death, but no chance to roam free from the pastures. The stable boys too terrified of you to come near you. Please, dear boy, let’s be friends. You and I could have many adventures together. What do you say, handsome fellow? Shall we?”

  
The horse whipped his long, snake-like neck forward and snatched the carrot from the blue fingers. Loki smiled and the horse munched, slipping into the stall. The horse eyed him warily but allowed him to run a curry comb through his dusty coat, making it shine. The strange, blue man cooed to him, telling him how handsome and fine he was. The preening made him toss his head in delight. Maybe, just maybe he would like this cool, horned man.

  
The grooming done, Loki leapt onto his back, feeling the scrambling of eight feet beneath him. He flicked the door to the box stall open and urged Sleipnir forward, out into the rising sun. “Bear me to Heimdall, good Sleipnir, and you shall be richly rewarded.”

  
The horse was indeed the fastest in all the Nine. The Jotunn clung tightly to his mane and squeezed his thighs with all his might, instantly regretting his decision to ride Odin’s steed without a saddle or bridle. It felt as if he were riding the fiercest storm, one that even Thor could not concoct with the guidance of Mjölnir.

  
As suddenly as their flight had begun, Sleipnir pulled to a halt. He pawed the Bifrost at the entrance to Heimdall’s golden observatory, tossing his head proudly. The All-Father slid from his back. “Thank you,” he whispered, making another carrot appear, which the enormous black horse took greedily. “Please wait for me. I shan’t be long.”

  
The stallion snorted in response and the Jotunn placed a gently pat on his muscular neck before entering the abode of the Watcher.

  
This time, Heimdall was waiting for him, his golden armor catching the morning sun, reflecting and refracting it into his ruby eyes. “All-Father.”

  
“Heimdall,” the prince of Asgard gulped back his nervousness, “I feel that I should explain my actions. Our prisoner, after all, was your sister.”

  
The statuesque man, his eyes never leaving the skies before him, replied, “She threatened Asgard. She is no sister of mine.” His golden-helmed head turned, quickly followed by his body as he stepped from his post to stand before Loki. The man towered over him, even if he included the measurement of his horns to his height. “You do not need to explain yourself or your actions, Loki. Sif is the Goddess of War and just as you live off of Chaos, she revels in conflict. You were kind in allowing her to live, even as something she finds less than desirable.”

  
Loki cocked his head to one side, looking up into the unsettling molten gaze of the Guardian. “And you, Heimdall? Do you find it undesirable?”

  
The golden man’s face was impassive as he met the eyes of the man below him. The man that had, in a fit of youthful vengeance, turned him into a block of ice. “No,” his fathomless voice intoned. He turned his back on the Jotunn runt and returned to his post. “I see all, All-Father. All races and species. Each is as flawed as the next. None stand above another, as much as some wished that they did.”

  
Curiosity peaked, Loki clicked forward a few steps. “What would you have done in my stead?”

  
“Killed her. A traitor deserves to reap what she sows.”

  
The smaller man bit his lower lip before walking to the side of the dais and looking out into the vastness of Yggdrasil. “Is my kindness weakness?”

  
“No,” the Watcher replied, “It is strength.”  
_________________________________________

  
Thanks to the impossible speed of Sleipnir, combined with the bribery of a carrot at the other end, Loki was able to get back to the palace before the sun had completely risen. He loved the feel of the carved black oak beneath his calloused palm as the door to his chambers opened before him. His claws clicked softly across the marble floor before his transitioned onto the carpet and back to the stone. The next door opened slowly to release the sound of Thor’s thunder-like snore. He smiled softly at the sight of his husband, golden hair playing across his pillow like the rays of the sun that peaked over the horizon. He looked so handsome, young and carefree in his sleep.

  
He slipped through the door, closing it behind him with a soft click, before removing his cloak and kicking off his loincloth. His husband sighed in his sleep, his hand reaching subconsciously towards the stop where he had slept. Quickly, so as not to alert his husband to his early morning trip down the Bifrost, he gave the wandering, tanned fingers his own clawed hand. He slowly eased his body back into the bed, pulling the furs, sheets, and comforters about him before shifting Thor’s hand from his own and onto his cheek, where it fit perfectly. With a soft sigh, his hand still covering his husband’s, he wriggled closer to the muscular furnace that shared his bed. “I love you,” he murmured, resting his Horns against his life-mate’s hair line.

  
“Hmmmgph,” Thor murmured, his hot breath playing across the Jotunn’s cold neck and chest. “Mine.” His thumb played across the Bergelmir’s Tears beneath it. “My little Jotunn.” He sighed again. “My Loki.”

  
The All-Father smiled at the terms of endearment that his life-mate offered in his slumber. The God of Thunder had never referred to him as ‘his little Jotunn’ before. He kind of liked it. Leave it to the big oaf to state the obvious and make it sound absolutely perfect. “Oh, you big oaf,” he murmured, playing his claws through the tangled blonde hair on his husband’s hair.

  
The blue orbs, framed by dirty blonde lashes blinked lazily a couple of times before looking up into the rubies that were more brilliant than the sun in the most beautiful, perfect blue sky. “Good morning, Beloved,” the horned man whispered with a tiny smile.

  
“Good morning, Loki,” Thor breathed back, returning the smile. His voice was gruff, fresh from sleep. It made the Jotunn press himself against the fit form beside him, revealing his early morning desire. It was quickly met by his husbands, and the men’s lips met fiercely.

  
A sudden wave of nausea washed over the pregnant man, causing him to pull away, closing his eyes and a disgruntled moan.

  
“Are you alright? Is it the baby?” The king’s bright blue eyes clouded to a worried storm grey. He moved his hand up onto the forehead of his life-mate, as if taking his temperature. Of course, he had no idea what temperature it was supposed to be. It was cool, as always. Loki did, however, seem to be better with the pressure his hands provided, smiling softly.

  
“I’m fine,” the All-Father muttered, eyes still closed. “It’s just some light nausea. A little late in my pregnancy to be experiencing this but,” he placed a hand over his abdomen and felt a small pulse of purple regret as if the child was sad for causing him discomfort, “the baby is fine.”

  
He opened his eyes with a regretful smile. “Maybe we could - could you just hold me? I just want to be near you.”

  
Before his request was completed, the larger man had pulled his head into his chest and rolled over, allowing his horns to roll over the other man’s shoulder into the air above their entwined forms. He curled up against the annoying cramping pain of nausea, his legs resting over Thor’s chiseled hips. He sighed, planting a kiss onto the broad, chest below him, his nose and lips tickled by the light blonde hair that was dusted there.

  
“I’ve always been jealous of this, you know,” he murmured, fingers stroking the tanned expanse that he was reclining on. “Chest hair - body hair. I’ve always been so...bare.” 

He felt the warmth of his husband shake with a chuckle. “I don’t think you’re bare.” One of his fingers began tracing his Wings and Mantle on his back. “I miss mine,” he whispered, kissing his Horns between the bases of the actual prominences. The Jotunn shivered as the heat swept over him.

  
“Are you too hot?” the King asked, concern playing through his voice.

 

“No,” the prince murmured, snuggling in deeper. “Too cold?”

  
“That’s what the body hair is for,” Thor chuckled, joined by his rich ‘ehehehe.’  
______________________________________________

  
**The Deepest, Darkest Cell, the Dungeons, the Palace - Asgard**

  
He carried the tray, loaded with all of his favorites, his mouth watering profusely at the smell of the venison steaks and the pheasant bones. His stomach rumbled, his nausea from earlier completely overwhelmed by hunger.

  
Slowly he shook his head and focused on the farthest cell, his clicking feet taking him closer to his destination. He was worried about what he was going to find. He knew that Sif would have been unable to seriously injure the new body - Jotunn were tough and this Jotunn had no idea what their true weaknesses were.

  
His feet finally stopped below the steps that led to the cell. He inhaled deeply, gathering his courage, and made his way up the steps. The sight that greeted him was surprising, though not unwarranted. The gold screen shifted to reveal a hulking back, shoulder plates of copper along with slivers of plating along the raised spinal column. The copper, dull even in the dim light, made the fine silvery Jotunn ridges that wove between the armor stand apart from the deep royal blue skin.

  
Squaring his shoulders, he breached the barrier, feeling the seidr wash over him. The Jotunn before him raised it’s head but made no move to rise or turn. “I’ve brought you some food, Sif. I wasn’t sure what you would like, so I brought my favorites,” he said to the ridged back. “I’ll place it here.” He set the tray down with a solid clank.

 

He cleared his throat. “If you have any questions or other needs, please, alert one of the guards and I will come.”

  
He turned to leave but hesitated, turning around to see that Sif had not moved an inch. “I know that this might be difficult for you to understand right now, Sif, but I want to help you. I’ve done this before, I know how scary it is.”

  
“ **YOU HAVE _NO_ IDEA WHAT THIS IS LIKE! YOU _MONSTER_!** ” The Jotunn was up, moving with incredible speed, it’s face distorted into a vicious snarl. It grabbed the tray and hurled it at the barrier that Loki had quickly stepped through, the food bouncing off the golden screen and fell to the dusty cell floor. “ **LEAVE ME ALONE! GO! _GOOOOOOOOO_!** ”

  
The last statement came out as a roar, though it did little to phase Loki. “You’re not getting any more food today, so I hope you like dirt,” he spat, his face inches from the seidr screen.

  
The larger figure’s face twisted into a deeper snarl. “ _What makes you think that I intend to eat anything **you** bring me?_ ”

  
“You will eventually, Sif,” he reasoned. “You have a much larger body now, in need of greater amounts of nourishment. You can starve to death, but only after about fifty years or so - your body will shut down and give itself to the ice first. Even _I_ didn’t choose that option.”

  
He turned from the still angry face of Sif and headed down the steps. He called, “The venison is particularly good. I’d hate to see it go to waste.”

 


	27. Chapter 27

  
The royal couple found their lives falling into a schedule. The morning typically began with a bit of cuddling or, if the baby wasn’t making the Jotunn nauseous, something a little more physical. After the sun had risen above the horizon, they roused themselves from their nest and moved to the bathroom where one would bathe while the other would continue the rest of his toilet, brushing his teeth and hair while shooting coy glances at the one in the bath. Then they would switch, sometimes after having sex on any surface they could think of, but usually after sharing tender touches or burning glances.

  
They would find their way to Frigga’s private dining hall for breakfast, hand in hand, and eat breakfast with their family. The kids would leave for school, giving their fathers kisses on their cheeks and hugs about their necks, and the men would go to their morning series of meetings or court, depending on the day. Recess ran into luncheon, after which Loki would bring a large, Jotunn meal to the dungeons. Sif refused to talk to him civilly or do anything except yell insults and throw food. He did notice, however, that the food disappeared from day to day and so he let it slide. He would leave the darkness of the prison for the afternoon light of the training grounds, sparring with Thor and the Warriors Three. Thor insisted on going easy on him, though the other three did not, still unaware of his current state of pregnancy. Sparring ended with another trip to the baths and definitely something to calm the Jotunn’s urges. Loki would then take Sleipnir out for a light run about the countryside. Afterwards, meetings resumed until dinner, where the family would be reunited again with tales of the children’s days late into the evening. Books were read, games were played, plans were made, illusions were spun. The twins were tucked into bed with a tale from Jotunnheim and an Aesir lullaby, Aiko retreated into her studio, and the two lovers found themselves in bed, hands pressed over the steadily growing bump, listening to the little purple spark that was their little one.

  
Towards the end of May, the pair made their first trip to Midgard since the battle of Paradise. It was his fifth month of pregnancy and it was high time he went to see Bruce. His little pudge was starting to become less like added fat and more like a round bump and his chest was losing it’s definition. His nausea was giving way to hunger and cravings, mostly for bone marrow and tiny birds that he could pop into his mouth in one bite like candy. The children would have to be told soon, followed by their friends, and lastly the Nine.

  
The Bifrost’s rainbow swirl gave way to the launch pad of Avenger’s Tower, depositing the two men in a roar of wind. The Jotunn was thankful for Thor’s strong arm around his waist as he staggered a bit, his claws scrambling for purchase on the smooth, metal surface of the landing pad. “Careful,” Thor said, his hands tightening on his husband’s still slim waist.

  
He placed a gentle hand on the other man’s thick, muscular arm. “Thank you, Thor.” He beamed, fangs displayed. “Shall we get a move on?”

  
“Of course.” Thor opened the door and ushered the blue man in with a small bow, a cock-eyed grin on his face. Loki snorted, ducking his head in a blush.

  
“Come along, you lovable oaf. We’ve got an appointment to keep,” he said jovially, punching the other man in his bulging bicep as he walked past and headed for the elevator, his light, clicking footsteps echoed by the heavy boots of his life-mate. The elevator brought them quickly down to the medical bay, where they were greeted by a rather happy Bruce.

  
“How are my favorite rulers of everything?” the man who housed the Hulk grinned, leading the way to the far room across from the doctor’s lab and the dreaded pregnancy throne.

  
“Well, thank you for asking, Bruce. And yourself and Asha? How are the wedding plans?” the All-Father asked, missing his Vanir friend who had taken up residence on Midgard with the good doctor.

 

“It’s as can be expected, but we’re happy.” He gestured the couple in to the room, “You know the deal, Loki. Let’s get started!”

  
The Jotunn moved the to scale, sighing as the number bobbled, but not that much. He had only gained a pound. _Not bad for five months_ , he thought with a grin as he hopped from the scale and bit into his wrist, offering it to the mortal doctor who caught it in the funnel and four vials. “Okay, I’ll be right back. Got to get the tests started.”

  
The couple grinned as he left, the Jotunn moving to sit in the faux pink leather chair, dropping his loincloth as he went. “What are you doing?” Thor asked, “Now is not the time.”

  
“Oh, keep your trousers on, Darling. He needs to check there too. He is my doctor and saw all of it and more _long_ before we lay together.” He rolled his ruby eyes as Thor’s ears turned bright red.

  
Bruce reentered the room, much to the thunder god’s embarrassment. “Let’s continue, shall we gents?”

  
He clapped his hands together like a little kid as he went to grab his stethoscope and his thermometer along with the expanding devise. He set to work, the man and the Jotunn falling into routine. Thor flinched and shifted uncomfortably as the other man’s hands traveled lower, which made the All-Father smirk.

  
“How have you been feeling the last few months, Loki?” Banner asked, inserting the devise as the blue man moaned. Thor stood up rapidly.  
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low, rumbling and dangerous. The doctor raised his hands and rolled his chair back a bit from the propped legs and exposed genitalia.

  
“For Norn’s sake, Thor!” the horned man responded in an exasperated sigh, accompanied by an eye roll. “Sit down!”

  
The King of Asgard sat, skewered by his husband’s sharp, scarlet gaze.

  
“To answer your question, Bruce: The first four months were relatively symptomless. No morning sickness and only a bit of nausea at the beginning of May. Besides that, I have been incredibly horny, an expression that my husband finds hilarious, though he has certainly reaped the benefits.”

  
The man who housed the Hulk blushed a fierce red that spread to near purple. “Uh-Ah-A-Anything...else d-different?”

  
“Not really. My appetite’s been growing with what I would consider to be normal cravings. I have to pee often. Um...”

  
“Mmmhmmm. Sounds alright.” The man withdrew the expanding devise, causing the Jotunn to whimper and the Aesir to break off the arm of the chair in which he sat. “Let’s take a look up top.”

  
His hands, hot through the latex gloves, pressed gently on the developing breast tissue before exploring the forming bump. “You look great, Loki,” he said with a smile. “Any questions?”

  
“Yes,” Thor’s rich voice cut in. “Could we get one of those pictures? For when we tell the twins.” He leaned forward, grasping his life-mate’s claws in his hand.

  
“Of course,” the mortal said happily. “I was going to ask if you wanted one any way. Hopefully the babe will be big enough to look like a little person instead of a mermaid.”

  
“A what?” the big, blonde god asked.

  
“Your children haven’t seen _The Little Mermaid?_ ” Both men shook their very confused looking heads. “I’m sure it can be arranged when you bring the little ones to visit. Great movie.” He busied himself with the machine, turning off the lights and booting up the ultrasound machine. The gel was squirted onto the still naked blue man and the pressure of the wand was applied.

  
“Alright,” Bruce said quietly, moving the wand over the little bump, picking up first the Jotunn’s deep, booming heart beat, and then the light fluttering of a rapid heart. “We’ve got a heart beat. A strong one at that.”

  
The baton continued to search before finally finding the little being nestled beneath his bearer’s belly button. “Here we go,” the doctor said, a hint of victory within his voice. “It measures about three inches, I’d say. A little less than a pound. And, it even looks like a person. Perfect for the end of the first trimester. Do you want to know the gender? I could make a guess.”

  
The camera clicked as the men’s eyes met, red and blue, before they both shook their heads. “No,” Loki said with a small smile. “We’d like it to be a surprise, if possible.”

  
“Of course. I’ll just print these and you can be on your way to spread your good news.” The doctor unplugged the machine and rolled it away. When he turned back around, Loki was cleaned off and his loincloth was back in place. He and Thor were holding each other, their hands played over the little bulge, just barely visible over the waistband of the cloth. The mortal smiled at the scene of domestic bliss.

  
Images in hand, he offered them to the couple. “Congratulations,” he said. “I can’t think of two better parents. I wish you all the happiness in the world with this little one.”

 

“Thank you Doctor,” the All-Father said, raising his head to look at the shorter man. “We wish the same for you.”

  
With a final wave, the couple left, arms wrapped around the other’s waists, swallowed by the rainbow swirl of the Bifrost.  
_________________________________________

  
**Asgard**

  
The two men sat in their mother’s sitting room, a fire roaring in the hearth to beat back the late May chill, though Loki was sitting as far away from the blaze as possible. In his hands, he clutched the pictures, face down and unobtrusive. The twins were playing on the floor, their blocks littered around them with their Avenger’s action figures, including one that he had manipulated with his seidr, transforming and fusing golden horns into slate grey ones, poking up through black hair over a blue lines face with twinkling ruby eyes. That way the twins didn’t have to fight over who got to play with Daddy. Seeing the two figurines work together to save the day from the most ridiculous things, including a stuffed bilgesnipe that Torsten slept with and a ballgown wearing Barbie doll, a gift from Pepper, it brought a smile to the Jotunn’s face. No matter what the rest of the Nine thought of him, his children thought he was a hero, and that was all that mattered.

  
“How was your trip to Midgard?” Frigga asked, looking up from her embroidery hoop.

  
“Lovely, as always,” Loki replied, making eye contact with his mother. “Bruce sends his regards.”

  
“Bruce?” Aiko said, her head snapping up. “Just Bruce?” The blue man could see the wheels turning in her mind.

  
“Yes, we only saw Doctor Banner,” Thor said with a broad smile. Aiko returned it, beaming like the sun, tears springing to her eyes.

  
The All-Father’s gaze fell on the twins again. “Tory and Daryn, please pick up your toys. It’s nearly time for our bedtime story.”

  
This statement was greeted by groans, though they complied anyway, dragging their feet as they picked up the wooden blocks and tossed their Avenger’s into the basket, all except Thor and himself. They each gently laid one on top of the pile of brightly color limbs and weapons.

  
Quick as a flash, the pair bounded over and launched themselves onto the laps of their parents with giggles. Loki planted a kiss on each twin’s cheek before setting one on either side of him.

  
“What story are you going to read to us today, Blue?” the heir asked, his eyes bright.

  
“Can you read us the story of the Jotunn and the Aesir? The one where they get married?” Daryn asked, pushing for her favorite story, the story of the courtship of their fathers, to be told.

  
The blue man shook his horned head with a small smile. “No, not tonight, Darling.” He wrapped an arm around each of the small children and pulled them closer, his cold skin almost sizzling in their heat. “Tonight, I am going to tell you the story about what happened today.”

  
The little one’s snuggled in and Thor pressed in from the other side of Daryn, Aiko from Tory’s other side. Frigga continued to stitch across from him, her eyes focused on her work even as a smile flitted around her lips. “Once upon a time,” the Jotunn intoned, “just this afternoon, in fact, your father and I took the Bifrost to Midgard. We landed on Uncle Tony’s launchpad at Avenger’s Tower, but we weren’t there to just visit with our dear friends. We were there to visit Uncle Brooze (pronounced: _bruise_ ) because he’s a doctor and I have been feeling a bit strange lately.”

  
Aiko shrieked, raising her hands to her mouth, cutting off the sound, though her enormous grin still showed, as did the excitement in her eyes. Everyone’s eyes whipped to the girl, causing her to whisper, “Sorry. I-I was just worried about you, Blue.”

  
The Jotunn smiled at his daughter. “I am feeling just fine, thank you for your concern my Child of Love.” He ruffled both sets of curls beside him and continued. “Well, Uncle Brooze checked me all over and he noticed something different about me. Can you guess what it was?”

  
The twins eyes scanned his body, staring at the tips of his horns and rolling downwards. It was Torsten, with his keen observational sense that spotted it first. “You’re getting fat Blue. Right there,” he pointed to the bump, “under your belly button.”

  
“Yes, exactly Torsten. Uncle Brooze said, ‘Loki, I’m going to use a special camera and figure out what that strange bump is,’ and he did.” He raised his eyes to Thor, who nodded slightly.

  
“And look at what he found!” he whispered excitedly, flipping the pictures over. Aiko jumped off the couch in excitement with a “BLUE!” Frigga set aside her embroidery and leaned forward to take a peek at her newest grandchild.

  
Daryn looked at the grainy picture, then up at her older sibling, then her grandmother, and finally up at the blue face the was looking down at her. “What is it Blue? Is it eating you? Is that why Aiko jumped away?” She lowered her voice. “ _Are you dying like Mummy? Cancer is eating you just like Mummy?!_ ” Tears sprang into her wide, beautiful blue eyes, her lower lips trembling.

  
“Oh, no no, Little One,” he said quickly. “No, I am alright. In fact, I am better than alright.” He pointed a claw at the photo. “That little thing that looks like a bean is a baby. You can see the big head and two arms and two legs. It’s waving at the camera. Your father and I are having a baby in December. You’re going to have a little brother or sister.”

  
The twins were eerily quiet, staring at the picture. Then, as if of one mind, two small hands found their way to the little bump. “How did the baby get in there?” the ever-curious heir asked, his eyes fixed on the rounded blue skin.

  
“Well,” Loki began, “When two people love each other very much, and they get married or find their life-mate, they can do something very special. If they hold each other really tightly, sometimes, if they’re lucky, their love will make a baby inside one of them. It will grow and grow until it’s big enough to survive outside of it’s bearer, and then it’s born.”

  
“Is that how Daryn and I were made? Mummy and Daddy held each other so hard, they made two of us and then Mummy hugged Blue and we jumped into him, right? Is that what happened?” The emerald eyes of the heir sparkled in the new knowledge.

  
“Yes,” Loki smirked, trying to hide a snicker. “That is what happened.”

  
“Blue?” Daryn asked, wide-eyed, “Why do you carry all the babies? Why not Daddy or Mummy?”

  
The Jotunn gulped, not really wanting to explain the ‘birds and the bees,’ as Stark referred to it, to a five year old. “Well...um...”

  
Thor interrupted. “Only the people with the biggest hearts can carry babies. That way, the baby knows that it will be cared for while it is too small to live outside of someone else. And, while your Mummy had a huge heart, Loki’s heart is even bigger. And that’s why he carries all the babies.”

  
The twins smiled brightly, accepting that answer for the time being. “And now, Darlings,” the king said conclusively. “It is time to go to bed.”

  
Again with a bit of groaning, the twins slid off the couch cushions and went about their nightly routine. They kissed Aiko and Frigga before bounding off to their room, trailed by the Jotunn and his life-mate.

 


	28. Chapter 28

  
The following morning, the Jotunn pulled on a breast band for the first time since the twins were weaned, flattening and stabilizing his aching and growing chest. The band was followed by a ratty t-shirt from Midgard, one of his husband’s that smelled like fresh rain and lemon grass. It was a strange ensemble to say the least: a simple black loincloth below a grey t-shirt that hung over him. He hugged the soft fabric to himself, inhaling the scent of his mate.

  
“Why are you wearing my sparring t-shirt from Midgard?” His life-mate smiled up at him from the tub, scooping water over his shoulders to rid his tanned body of his delicious lemon grass soap. It revealed some of the scars that latticed his back, bringing back memories of their wedding and it’s imperfections that made it special.

  
“I’m wearing a breast band beneath it, if you must know,” he retorted, pulling the shirt up with one hand as the other loosened the braid that he had slept in.

  
“But why _my_ shirt? You have plenty of tunics,” Thor asked before ducking beneath the water to rid his blonde hair from the suds. When he had resurfaced, he slicked the hair back and said, “Not that I mind, Loki. I really don’t - I just find it curious.”

  
The Jotunn smiled. “And what if I prefer to wear something that reminds me of you? Make all the ladies of court jealous?”

  
The other man climbed out of the golden tub and picked up his towel, drying himself as he watched his life-mates deft fingers create his fauxhawk braid. The long ebony locks, shiny and thick from the pregnancy hormones were quickly scooped up from his husband’s t-shirt clad back. It had gotten long and it made the king just want to run his fingers through it.

  
“What?” Loki asked, quirking an eyebrow as he tied off the end of the braid and tossed it back over his shoulder.

  
“Nothing,” the God of Thunder stammered. “It’s just...you’re so beautiful.”

  
The Jotunn spun around, beaming. “Now, now Darling. No sense in trying to get into my loincloth too early. We have things to do today.”

  
A set of warm, muscular arms encompassed his waist and pulled him into a hard, defined torso. Thor smirked. “What are _you_ planning on doing today? I thought our morning was free.”

  
The horned man placed a gentle hand over his husband’s heart and smiled up at his blue eyes. “I promised the children that I’d bring them to the gallery. They want to see the portraits, hear the stories and such.”

  
The blonde man smiled, leaning down and planting a kiss on his thin, blue lips. His large hands wandered over his slim back, causing the t-shirt to catch and pull on his ridges. He gasped and wriggled closer to the heat in front of him. “ _Thor_ ,” he gasped, “I _promised. **Later**._ ”

  
“Well,” his husband said, his deep voice resonating through his chest, causing the smaller man to shiver. “May I come with you, then? I won’t let go of you unless you say yes.”

  
He rolled his ruby eyes slowly, giving his consent before capturing the full mouth in front of him. “Fine,” he said, oozing fake sarcasm, “I guess you may come.”  
_____________________________________________

  
**Royal Gallery - Asgard**

  
Each of his rough hands held a delicate, soft one, their warmth making him smile. The twins chattered excitedly as the main doors, paned, unlike any other doors in the realm, with Jotunnheim stained glass, were opened by one of the guards. The stark, white walls, covered with frames of various sizes, each filled with a painting pulled from the paints on the palate. It was the only room with electricity, something that Aiko had insisted upon when she had taken over as Royal Portrait Painter nearly six years ago.

  
The little ones fascinated by the strangely bright lights and the smooth walls, pulled enthusiastically on his arms. “Whoa, whoa. Slow down!” he chided softly. “We must start our tour from the beginning, not any old place.” His eyes fixed on a painting to his left, just inside the doors. “Over here.”

  
The threesome, shadowed by Thor who smiled at the scene, wandered over to the large, nearly life-sized painting depicting Bor. “This is your great-grandfather, Bor. He was the great protector of the Realms, the third All-Father. One of his greatest victories came when he defeated the Dark Elves of Svartalfheim who were trying to plunge the universe into unending darkness. It is said that he and his troops led such a mighty campaign that only one ship of Elves escaped. Your father helped to rid the world of that ship before you were born and the Dark Elves are no more.” Loki relayed the tale, a note of gravity in his voice as the twins looked up at the imposing figure in the portrait with his horned helm, grizzled grey beard, and piercing gaze. He would have been an intimidating sight to behold in his prime, a warrior king through and through.

  
“He’s really tall,” Torsten breathed. “Will I grow to be that big one day?”

 

“Probably,” Thor responded, ruffling his son’s hair. “After all, you have inherited his blood.”

  
“What happened to him?” Daryn asked, looking up at Loki’s lined face. “Did he live happily ever after?”

  
“Sadly, no. He was killed in battle with the Jotunn. My bearer, Laufey, killed him. Supposedly, his ghost convinced Odin to take me as a babe, giving me life and forever altering my fate.” He glanced sideways at Thor with a small smile.

  
“Next!” declared the heir, side stepping to a portrait of Frigga and Odin on their coronation day. “That looks like Grandmother!”

  
“It is and beside her is your grandfather. If you look closely, he looks like your Dad, though not as handsome,” the Jotunn intoned, pointing to the features that Thor had inherited. The twins squinted up at their grandfather’s surprisingly youthful face, shaking their heads.

  
“I don’t think he looks like Daddy at all,” Daryn said, crossing her arms authoritatively.

  
“I agree!” echoed Torsten, already pulling his uncle to the next portrait, the one painted shortly after his sixteenth Name Day. “Who are they?” he asked, pointing.

  
The two figures standing back to back, helmets under their outer arms, beaming with some shared joy. The taller figure, a boy who looked to about eighteen (but was actually 168), had long blonde hair framing his arrogant bearded face. His sturdy form stood about two inches taller than the other, leaner figure, a boy of sixteen, who had chin length black hair that was greased back from his face alight with mischief. Both were dressed in full regalia; one in red, blue and silver, the other in green, black, and gold. The memory made the Jotunn smile, not even feeling the slightest twinge of regret for the loss of that face.

  
“That is the first official portrait of the Princes of Asgard.”

  
“That’s Daddy, Tory,” Daryn said pointing to the taller boy. “He has his helmet.”

  
“Blue? Where are you in this picture?” the heir asked, his emerald eyes wide as he faced the horned man.

  
“I _am_ in this portrait, Silly,” he chuckled. “Do you remember when we were talking about my horns? It was about a year ago now, and I told you that I looked different when I was growing up. That -” his claws pointed to the shorter, pale man in the painting, “Is what I looked like when I was Aiko’s age.”

  
“Oh,” the curious little boy said, looking back at the portrait. “I like the way you look now better.”

  
The statement made Loki grin brightly. “I do too, Darling. I do too.”

  
The next painting was the first of Aiko’s commissions and was, sadly, out of date. The painting was on a muted maroon backdrop and it featured the entire royal family. Odin and Frigga sat regally on chairs in the center of the picture. Odin’s face was stern and commanding, but not unnecessarily hard through his rigid posture suggested otherwise. He wore his usual black robes crossed with gold and brown leather. His eyepatch reflected some distant light like a promise. Frigga was dressed in her traditional slate grey etched with bronze and complete with breast plate. While her clothing conveyed a strong woman, her face was open and loving. Thor stood behind and slightly to the right of Odin’s chair, dressed in full armor, Mjolnir in his belt and a reckless smirk at the corner of his mouth. His large right hand rested on Jane’s shoulder, making the woman seem tinier than usual but not fragile. Her face was determined but not overbearingly so. She was draped in her favorite dark blue gown with fine strands of silver laced through it. Across from Jane, book-ending the other side of the portrait, was the painter herself. She looked happy, her blue eyes sparkled like sapphires and her cheeks blushed pink. She was wearing her violet gown, her hair pulled back into an elaborate version of it’s traditional braid. Her hand was clasped around that of another figure. Behind Frigga, one clawed hand resting on her shoulder and the other in the coffee-colored clasp of his daughter, Loki found himself. Blue, ridged and bare chested but wearing his ceremonial cloak of green about his shoulders. His face was passive, almost contemplative. The frightening blood red held no malice or evil within their depths, only hope and love.

  
It was followed by the ‘engagement portrait’ of Thor and Jane. The background was a swirling storm grey but it did nothing to deter the figures depicted in it. It was an intimate and loving moment caught between Thor and Jane. Both were wearing casual clothes, Jane was even in a plaid shirt and jeans, her arms wrapped around her husband’s waist. His arms were encompassing her shoulders, drawing her into him. Both parties were staring at each other enraptured and unaware of anyone else around them. The love between the two of them was palpable, leaving the paint behind on the page and filling each of the observers with love and a bit of jealousy.

  
“That is your Mummy: Jane,” Loki said softly, feeling tears prick in his eyes as he looked at the woman who had saved his husband.

  
“She’s really pretty,” Daryn whispered, reaching a hand out and stroking the image. “What was she like?”

  
“Well,” Loki began, “Your mother was Midgardian when she met your father. She was a scientist, which is someone who studies things that they don’t know through experiments, and she studied Einstein-Rosen Bridges and quantum mechanics and astronomy. She was so smart, just like the two of you. And she was very short - Aksel would be nearly as tall as her by now, and she was very loving and kind and funny. She was a great listener and she was very loyal to your father. I wish you could have known her. She was an incredible woman.”

  
A warm hand fell on his shoulder as Thor chimed in, “I think that you’ve forgotten one thing Loki. The two of you are very similar. Very studious and quiet and very intelligent. And you love your families so very much. I think that, sometimes, it’s like Jane never left.”

  
“So Blue is like Mummy?” Torsten asked.

  
“Yes, yes he is,” Thor confirmed, squeezing his lover’s shoulder gently as the group moved on.

  
Next was the darkly shaded image of his face on a black background: one half Jotunn, the other Aesir. Each detail was perfect, each line exactly where it carved into his skin was present on the left side of his face while the right bore no trace of lines or blue. His emerald eye stared back at him along with his ruby eye, both conveying the same wounded but mischievous expression. His hair was slicked back, the way he wore it as the Aesir prince, though a lone grey horn erupted from his left brow. It was, by far his favorite portrait that his daughter had ever done of him.

  
“Is that how it happened, Blue? When you turned blue? Was it halfway?” Torsten asked, his eyes wide as his fingers absentmindedly traced his Claws.

  
“No, no. I turned blue first, then my eyes changed, then my Jotunn ridges, and lastly, your favorite feature of mine showed up.” He chuckled slightly at their inquiry and the inquisitive nature that they most definitely inherited from their mother. Little hands gave him the universal ‘pick me up’ sign, arms stretched over their head, fingers wiggling.

  
Knowing what they wanted, he gently lifted them, placing one on each hip so that they could stroke his horns. It was strange to think that the features of his body that were considered to be the lowest of body parts that he could have by his species were the favorites of his children and, as he had learned, his life-mate. Besides the fact that they were literally growing on him, the rather annoying protrusions were becoming something that he really liked about his true appearance. He smiled as the children petted, a soft purr rumbling nearly silently in his chest.

  
Stepping to the next painting around the corner, jostling the twins jovially. “That’s Uncle Steve!” Daryn whispered into his ear.

  
“Yes it is, Princess,” Loki responded. “He goes to that statue every day to feed the pigeons and to think about his friends who have died in battle long ago.” He paused. “Let’s continue, or we shall never finish, and I believe that a couple of _someones_ have their tutor coming later.” He shifted his blonde-haired daughter further up his hip as he looked at the other Avenger’s portraits. The twins pointed, reaching towards the pictures. The images they held weren’t anything that were not something that the twins had not experienced, except the images of pregnancy. They were fascinated by the painting of Clint and Natasha, the archer standing behind his partner, both of their hands on her small but slightly rounded stomach. Coulson, dressed in his ever-present suit, was standing in front of his Captain America collection that had the little one’s pointing out all of their favorite Avengers. Fury’s retirement picture made them laugh even though they had never met the man. Bruce’s portrait was medical in nature and made them ask if there was one of the Hulk (There wasn’t). The portrait of the two of them, asleep in Thor’s arms while he snored with the reflection of the TV gave them pause and led to many questions about their early days, which led them around the corner to the “Mystery Avenger” painting.

  
It was dark, the moonlight streaming into the room from the window on the left, capturing the profile of the pregnant Jotunn. His head was tilted downward, one hand resting on the top of his heavy stomach in a gentle caress, the other wrapped beneath it, supporting the weight. “Blue,” Daryn whispered, tugging gently on his ebony braid, “You look so in love.”

  
“It’s because I _was_ in love. I was in love with the two of you.” The blue man smiled sentimentally.

  
“You’re really, _really_ big,” Torsten added. “That’s because there were two of us, right?”

  
“Yes, Darling,” he chuckled. “That was not even my largest. The two of you were both the size of full-term babies who hadn’t shared a womb with anyone else. I had to hold my stomach when I walked anywhere.” 

“Walking is a liberal term, Loki.” Thor set Tory down and leaned back, arms tucked under his invisible, rotund stomach, waddling across the gallery floor as the twins laughed. The Jotunn even chuckled lightly.

  
“You had better not make too many jokes at my expense. I _am_ carrying your third child.” He skewered the blonde man in a sarcastically evil glance. He gently slid Daryn down his body, his back aching. “Sorry Little One,” he whispered, smoothing her hair. Her small hand over his slight bump was forgiveness enough. It was joined by her brother’s hand and the flash of a camera, Thor capturing the moment and his life-mate’s soft smile.

  
The portraits rolled on, complete with the final portrait of their mother wearing ghostly grey and reaching forward in a comforting manner. Jane’s face was youthful but her hair had its white streaks that she had died with. Her expression was loving and serene, like she had found peace and had wanted to share it with all who looked upon her. Beside it sat the only portrait of the original little family. The portrait was relatively simple, with Thor sitting cross legged, Jane wrapped in his arms, the twins held in hers. The adults were looking lovingly at the babies and the babies were looking up at the adults, smiling.

  
The twins, their hands still pressed to his stomach, warming it as they rubbed the hardened area beneath his bellybutton, sniffled. Torsten, the more sensitive of the two, was the first to place his other hand onto his mother’s image. It was joined by his likeminded twin, her wide blue eyes shining with tears.

  
“Hi Mummy,” the little girl whispered. “Look at how big I am. I look like Daddy, that’s what everyone says. I-I miss you, Mummy. I love you.”

  
“Hello Mum. It’s me Tory,” her twin said, his little hand rubbing the painting. “I miss you and I love you too. I just want you to know that we’re okay. Blue is here and he’s making everyone happy. He’s taking care of us for you.”

  
Warm trails blazed down his icy face, and he bit his lips to try and stop the tears. Large arms wrapped around his shoulders, pressing down on his breast band through the t-shirt. A bearded cheek nudged at his chin and neck and he tilted his head to the side, his tears obscuring the images of Jane before him. “Jane would be _so_ happy knowing that we have you, Loki.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Asgard**

  
Lunch was a somber affair. The twins had wedged themselves between their two fathers, practically clinging to them as if they would disappear, only looking at their plates. Conversation was practically non-existent after Frigga had asked about their trip to the gallery. She had wondered what they had thought about it. “Did you see anything surprising?”

  
“Blue was really big,” Daryn had muttered, her hand brushing the little bump of his stomach.  

“We met Mummy today,” the heir whispered. “She was beautiful.”

  
Loki felt tears instantly spill from his ruby eyes and catch on his ridges, freezing in place. He had not expected to feel like such an outsider in those moments in the gallery. The second, replacement ‘wife’ of the great king. A whore to warm his bed and nothing more.

  
He knew that his insidious thoughts were not true. Thor loved him, as he had proven time and time again. He adored the twins as if they were his own children, his own blood, but they weren’t his. They knew it, Thor knew it, he knew it. Listening to them talk of Jane broke him. As much as he wished it, as he realized he had _always_ wished it, they would never be his. They belonged to Jane and they loved her even though they had barely known her when she had died. He wondered what would have happened if Jane had not had cancer, if she had not died, if she had taken his offer. She’d be nine now. Would she have been the same as she had been or would she have been different? He sighed, missing his sister-in-law as he wondered what she would think about her children and his relationship with her husband.

  
The tutor came, whisking the children away for their afternoon lessons in inter-realm relations and diplomacy. The Jotunn excused himself and readied the tray for Sif, hoping that the new Jotunn may have a break through and not scream at him and throw perfectly good food after him as was it’s usual flare. He had saved the pigs ears, thin and surprisingly greasy, from his own luncheon for the prisoner. He prayed that it would be appreciated as he was getting a bit frustrated with the lack of change. It had been nearly a month and he was beginning to worry about the lack of progress, seriously considering shipping Sif to Jotunnheim where it’d be forced to deal with it’s new existence. He hadn’t even learned if the Jotunn wanted to be addressed and male or female, for Norn’s sake. He couldn’t keep calling the blue figure ‘it.’ Unless, of course, that was what Sif wanted.

  
As he turned to leave, Thor rose from his chair and crossed to him, taking the tray from his claws. A confused expression played across the All-Father’s face as he asked, “Thor, what are you doing?” His eyes flickered to Frigga and Aiko, both of whom seemed to be engrossed in conversation about the merits of hand-woven tapestries, before meeting his husband’s eyes.

  
“I,” the king replied, “Am going to cheer you up.” He stepped closer to the cool man, his skin radiating heat that made the horned man just want to melt. “You haven’t been the same since the twins saw Jane in those portraits. They made her real, someone who actually existed in their lives.” His arms encompassed his still thin waist, placing a swift peck on his Horns. “They adore you, you know that don’t you? After all, they say that you’re their mother - they’ve told me that repeatedly. You’re important to them and they love you so very much. I’m very sure that Torsten wants to be you when he grows up. He’s always asking for stories about you when you were little.”

  
Loki laughed. “Seriously? Torsten wants to be like me?”

  
“Down to the horns and everything!” Thor said, grasping his husband around the waist and lifting him and spinning him once in a circle, laughing and beaming at his life-mate’s happiness.

  
When his horned feet touched the ground again, the blue man gave the large man a gentle push. “Shouldn’t you be inspecting your standing army in five minutes?”

  
“They can wait,” Thor said, kissing down the Jotunn ridges on his neck.

  
“Well, I have a rather pissed off Jotunn to feed in the dungeons. I shouldn’t be late for my daily verbal thrashing.”

  
“Sif yells at you?” Thor’s face became very concerned, pulling away.

  
“Thor - don’t you dare get over protective. I can care for myself.” The All-Father bent and picked up the tray.

  
“I wasn’t implying...”the blonde man tried to recover.

  
The Jotun smiled coyly. “I know you weren’t, you big oaf.” He placed a kiss on the other man’s supple lips. “Go. I will see you on the sparing field.”

  
He turned quickly, ignoring the growing arousal in his loincloth, and made his way to the dungeons, his claws clicking along the smooth marble. He was ushered in by the guards who had been made aware of the Jotunn in the deepest cell and that Asgard’s other resident Jotunn visited daily with what he deemed to be food. It wasn’t like they didn’t feed it. It got a portion of gruel twice daily, just like everyone else. They let the All-Father through anyway, after all, he was All-Father.

  
His feet led him down the familiar paths to the darkest part of the prison where the golden barriers were the only sources of light. Inhaling deeply through his nose and closing his eyes, he stepped up the stairs and through the screen. “Hello Sif,” he said, eyes focused on the ground as he bent and set down the tray. “How are you today?”

 

No response. _Typical_ , he thought. “I brought you one of my favorites: pig’s ears. They’re like fried food on Midgard, fatty and delicious.”

  
He looked up and met a pair of startling eyes. The blood red orbs held no malice or rage. Instead, they were forlorn and contemplative. “Is there anything else I can get you Sif?”

  
The eyes blinked slowly as if attempting to comprehend what was in front of them. A large hand, bigger than his head, made it’s way across the gap between the bodies. Loki automatically slid a hand over his bulge while the other sparkled green, siedr playing along his fingers. The hand stopped beside his face but made no move to touch him.

  
“Loki.” The statement held nothing behind it.

  
“Sif,” the prince responded, lowering his seidr-sparking hand, his eyes never leaving the other face. “What can I do to help you?”

  
A sigh, like the winds of winter played over him and displayed the tips of the larger Jotunn’s fangs. “Why am blue?”

  
Loki cocked an eyebrow. “Because you’re Jotunn now Sif. The blue helps with camouflage, but, more importantly, it protects you from the cold because it radiates cold. It channels your new ice-shaping seidr. It takes some getting used to, but it’s practical.”

  
“Oh.” Another rush of cool air. “Why do I ha-have...?”

  
The All-Father’s brow furrowed. “Have a seat Sif. We can talk. Or-or, I could bring you a book. The book my mother gave me when I was transitioning. It’s very helpful.” He pushed the tray toward the larger Jotunn. “Would you like that?”

  
He received a single nod in response. With a soft smile, the horned man smiled. “I’ll bring it tomorrow. You’ll find it helpful, I’m sure.” He headed towards the screen. “Have a good day, Sif. Enjoy the pig ears.”  
________________________________________________

  
**Training Yard - Asgard**

  
The blue man raised Gungnir with both hand, blocking the downswing of Mjölnir. “Wait!” the other man panted, “Sif spoke to you. Actually spoke without yelling.”

  
Loki spun his spear, disengaging from Thor’s weapon of choice, and planted the head into the ground, spinning about it to kick at the larger man. “Yes,” he grunted, a horned foot connecting with a solid wall of muscle. As his ankle was grabbed, he wrapped his free leg around the other man’s waist and crunched up to meet the hand with his claws extended. “I’m bringing her the book Mother gave me.” His claws connected with thin flesh.

  
“ _Loki_ ,” the King of Asgard hissed. “You don’t need to make my hand match that stupid book’s cover.” He dropped the ankle, and the Jotunn fell on his back, quickly rolling back up into a defensive position, ice knives flying from his fingertips. “Gah!”

  
One of the knives cut his husband’s brow, leaving a trail of scarlet blood that rapidly fell into his blue eyes. Immediately, Loki dropped Gungnir, earning a rather sharp retort from the weapon, and ran to his life-mate’s side, his fingers coated with green seidr. “Thor, I am so sorry.” He placed a gentle fingertip onto the wound, staunching the bleeding and sealing it without a hint of a scar. He shrieked as his husband grabbed the hand and pulled him into his chest, heaving with the exertion of their sparring, and wrapped his strong arms around him until he could barely wiggled. “Do you yield?”

  
Loki’s ruby eyes were wide as he gasped, “ _Thor. Th-thuh b-bay-buh...ee..._ ”

  
The statement made the king drop his spouse quickly, loosening his hold and laying him gingerly on the ground. With a little smirk, the Jotunn summoned an ice dagger and flipped their bodies over so that he was sitting squarely on Thor’s wide, heaving chest. Ice sprang around the All-Mother, locking his arms and legs in place and encasing his right hand entirely, breaking his connection to Mjölnir. With the dagger pressed delicately under the other man’s bearded chin, the blue man bent down seductively, running his nose through the fine blonde hairs of his lover’s beard and whispered, “I can’t believe you fell for that. Do you think I’d spar without shielding it first?”

  
He gave the flushed cheek below him a little nip then drew back, giving a commanding “Yield” to the man below him. He could see the disbelief in Thor’s startlingly blue eyes and it hurt him to know that he had put it there. “Thor,” he whispered, dissolving the dagger with the flick of his wrist. “I’m sorry, please forgive me my little trick.”

  
The ice holding his life-mate cracked and a hand flew up. Fearing a punch, the Jotunn flinched but did not move, knowing that he deserved retribution of some kind for using their unborn child to defeat his husband. Instead, much to his surprise, the beefy hand wrapped around one of his horns tightly and yanked his head down, causing him to cry out. His cry was cut short by a rough kiss, the intensity nearly overwhelming his rather thin resolve, causing his hips to buck involuntarily against his husband’s armored chest.

  
When they broke apart, chests heaving, pupils blown wide, Thor rasped, “I yield. I will _always_ yield to you, All-Father.”

  
The Jotunn smirked, a hand joining his husband’s around his horn, the other cupping the flushed cheek of the king, and bent to kiss his life-mate chastely. “I love you.”

  
“And I you.” The Thunderer returned the kiss. “Are you going to help me get out of this?”

 

Loki raised his eyebrows, wrinkling his Horns, and shrugged. He stood, readjusting the t-shirt so that it covered more of his abdomen, picked up Gungnir tenderly, and turned to face the Warriors Three. The men had ceased their sparring long ago, drawn to the struggle of the rulers of the realm. Smirking slightly as he listened to Thor struggle against the ice that bound his extremities, the blue man asked, “Who’s next?”

  
Volstagg promptly dropped his axe, his mouth agape. Hogun face was impassive as always, but he made no move to strike. Fandral’s mouth was moving like a fish out of water, gulping at the air around him. “No one? Gentlemen, don’t disappoint me please,” he said, a hint of playfulness in his rough voice.

  
No one moved or made a sound besides Thor, who continued to chip away at the ice that bound him. “What is it? I swear I’ll take it easy on you,” the Jotunn said, his eyes scanning the faces of the realm’s toughest warriors in confusion. “Hogun? Vostagg? Surely you wish to spar, Fandral?”

  
“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Fandral asked, his eyes locking on his hidden stomach. Volstagg kept his eyes lowered, shifting his weight uncomfortably. Hogun didn’t move.

  
Loki bit his lip. He and Thor had been discussing how they would tell their friends, but it had never occurred to them that they might come to their own conclusions. Suddenly, his little trick against Thor seemed like an awful idea. He should have yielded, let the other man win, and then they wouldn’t be looking at him as if he was crazy, as if he was fragile, breakable.

  
He released Thor with a wave of his hand, the ice melting in the late May sun. He suddenly felt very vulnerable, like a freak. Unwanted. As if the child that he held was an abomination, because of him. Because he was Jotunn, because he was ‘male,’ because the father was the man that he had called Brother for so much of their lives.

  
Turning on his heel, he sprinted away from the arena, hoping that no one would see the tears falling from his eyes.

 


	30. Chapter 30

  
**Loki’s Chambers, Bilskirnir - Asgard**

  
Thor slowly, quietly, and gently opened the door of his husband’s chambers. Loki’s fleeing form, his arms wrapped around his stomach, claws pulling at the grey fabric of the too-large t-shirt, was burned into his mind. He had lost everything in that flight it seemed. He had ceased to be his strong, indomitable life-mate. No, the fleeing figure was a scared little boy, running from the monsters that his mind created, a child who had wanted to fit in but had never truly succeeded. It was in that moment that the Thunderer realized that he never would.

  
Loki was a contradiction all in himself. He was a Frost Giant who was shorter and slimmer than Aesir warriors. He was battle-hard but maintained delicate and slim features like a woman. He fought with multiple combat styles, had brought down many noble and worthy enemies, but was never lauded for his deeds because of the seidr he used, the tricks he had up his sleeve, and his own classification as an ‘other,’ a non-Aesir. He was brilliant, one of the smartest men to walk the Nine, and yet he was rash and unthinking when his emotions were exposed. He was male, something Thor never doubted, and yet he could, and did bear children. He had been a criminal and yet ruled the realms under his care justly, practicing mercy and forgiveness instead of vengeance. He considered himself to be hideous and yet, Thor could not think of a being that was more exquisite.

  
He smiled at the thought of the man before it slipped from his lips again. The door to his husband’s bedroom, the one they had shared since their marriage, was coated in a thin layer of frost. He gently rested a hand on the icy build-up, the heat melting a small patch on the dark wood. “Loki?” he asked softly, “May I come in?”

  
The king waited as silence permeated the rooms. He reached a hand down to the knob and turned it, breaking the ice that surrounded it. The door refused to budge. “Loki, please,” the King begged, “Let me in.”

  
The knob turned. The God of Thunder opened it, barely heeding the crackling of the ice on the door, much less the glassy surface that his boots traversed. His eyes instantly fell on the frost-covered figure in the center of the nest bed, knees slightly parted around the barely visible bump, arms wrapped around the knees, hands gripping the slate grey horns.

  
He slid carefully along the skating rink that was his husband’s bedroom floor, collapsing into the side of the nest, the cold sinking firmly into his body. His fingers, exposed to the ice, were numb, but that didn’t matter, not when his life-mate was so distressed. He tumbled down into the nest, spreading his legs around his husband’s frost-coated body. Despite the cold that radiated from the smaller blue figure, Thor wrapped his arms around it and began to gently pry the fingers off of the horns that he adored. Every time he would loose a phalange, it was relatch with increased fervor.

  
“Loki,” he whispered, “Please stop. Please, don’t hurt yourself. Please. I hate this: You beating yourself up. Letting others hurt you. Please, let me in.”

  
His husband didn’t move or say anything, making Thor think that he had retreated into the privacy of his own little world. Instead, he waited, freezing, then numbing, and, lastly, burning, frost bite covering his exposed skin. And yet, he waited, knowing that Loki will return to him and that he’d need him.

  
The ice retreated slowly. Thor watched thin, blue fingers, carved by silvery lines, relinquish their incredibly tight grasp on grey prominences. He realized, as the ice melted, that he was shivering, his armor, soaked in sweat before his arrival, was now covered in icy water. He squeezed the blue man more fiercely.

  
“ _Th-Thor?_ ” The voice, rough and weak, broke his heart.

  
“I am here, Loki. As it has been, as I always will be,” he whispered, despite his chattering teeth.

  
“This -this isn’t right.”

  
“No,” the king countered, “Don’t even think like that. _This. What we have_ , it is the _only thing_ that is right.” He gently pulled the cold body against his sopping chest. “I love you,” he whispered through his constricting throat, tears playing at the corners of his eyes. “I love you, Loki. More than anything. Nothing anyone else says or does is _ever_ going to change that.”

  
“Why? Why do you say such things?” The voice, so strong once, had taken on a child-like quality. “What we are, what we did, is wrong.”

  
“No, Loki,” he said fiercely, shaking the body in his arms to make it see reason, “It is right. We are halves of a whole. We are one.”

  
“And the baby? It disgusted our friends to discover it: the child of incest with a monster.” The noble head bowed, hand’s rising to grasp the ridged horns again.

  
Thor shot his hands out, catching the open palms and squeezing them, ignoring the bite of the Withering Touch that greeted him. “No, Loki. Stop!” he said, hiding the pain in his voice. “Our child will be loved. If the others cannot see that, we will change them.”

  
“They won’t change.” He struggled but lowered his hands.

  
“Those that matter _will_ change. They changed for you, for us,” he murmured into the blue, lined ear beside his cheek. “You will see. It will be alright.”

  
Slowly, his body weary from the battle he had just endured with his husband’s fear, he picked up the slighter man and carried him to the bath, lowering him down and turning on the cold taps. He pulled the soiled t-shirt from his husband’s torso, detangling it from his horns, and released the loincloth from his slim hips, wet with the cool water. He unwound the breast band tenderly, worrying the ridges lovingly.

  
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said as cheerfully as he could muster, his hands blackening as the Touch spread, making it difficult to bend his fingers. Still he persisted, filling his hands with Loki’s shampoo and running it through his ruined braid, the hair, thick and glossy despite the dust and mud laced through it. He did his best to rub the Crown that he knew was hidden beneath the ebony curtain, eliciting soft moans from his husband. If he could feel anything but pain in his fingers, he was certain that he would feel the tension leaving his life-mate’s body.

  
He continued to pamper the Jotunn, hoping that his love for the other man eliminated his fears. A moan slipped from Loki’s thin blue lips, a hand came to meet his on an azure shoulder. “Thor,” he said, startled but stronger. “I-I hurt you.” Seidr played across his finger tips, sucking the blackness away.

  
“No, you didn’t,” he smiled, placing a kiss on the slim fingertips and their claws. “I know your secret, remember? What if I wanted to prove my love to you? Transitioning to Jotunn wouldn’t be awful. We’d be the same.”

 

The blue man spun around in the water. “No! Thor! You can’t do that! I won’t let you ruin your life for me. Throw it away.”

  
He smiled. “I wouldn’t be throwing it away. Not if it kept me with you. You’re all that matters, Loki.”

  
“But the realm. Your children. They need you the way you are. _I-I_ need you the way you are,” Loki said with conviction.

  
“Just as I need _you_ the way _you_ are,” he said firmly, tilting the blue chin and capturing those perfect lips with his. The Jotunn broke the kiss, bowing his head in his blush. Tears of realization pricked at the corners of his starling eyes. Thor, of course, was right.  
_________________________________________________

  
The couple spent the rest of their afternoon together, sharing tender words and glances, touches that carried electrical charges laced with overwhelming love. The pair of them cleaned the water left by the ice, mopping it with seidr and towels. Thor was pleased that this activity involved a very naked Loki who had not put the clothing he had worn most of the day back on after his bath. His insecurities forgotten, the horned man shot him heated glances and sly smiles. They didn’t make love, instead they found pleasure exploring each other’s bodies as they had done that first night, when Loki had asked Thor to see all of him. The added rounding of his husband’s abdomen fascinated him to no end, his fingers and lips always finding their way to that spot, planting gentle kisses and drawing patterns with light fingertips.

  
A sharp knock on their door startled the men from their attentions and caused Loki to jump, his claws scrambling to cover his nakedness. “Who is it?” Thor bellowed, pulling Loki into him protectively and covering his sensitive ears.

  
“Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg,” came Fandral’s usually confident voice through the thick wood of the main door. It wasn’t confident now, it was contrite. “We would like to speak with you, and with Loki, if he will see us.”

  
He looked down at his husband, noticing the fear in his ruby eyes. “What do you want to do, my Love?” he whispered. “I can send them away.”

  
His life-mate inhaled, closing his ruby orbs. After some time, he murmured, “Let me dress. Let them in.” He extricated himself from the thick arms that held him so gently.

  
The Thunderer watched as the blue man left, stronger and prouder than he had ever seen him. He smiled, overcome with emotion. He rose and walked to the main doors and opened one slowly. He was greeted by the sight of the Warriors Three, heads bowed in repentance. Fandral held snow blossoms and other wild flowers in his hands, a gift for his husband, no doubt. Loki had always loved flowers. “My friends,” he said quietly, “Please come in. Loki will be joining us momentarily.”

  
The three men entered the abode on eggshells, their eyes trained on the ground. “Have a seat,” the King commanded, gesturing to a couch large enough to fit the three of them. They sat rigidly, looking at their hands or the floor, not meeting Thor’s piercing eyes.

  
When the door to the bed chamber opened, four heads swiveled to face it. As Loki, dressed in a pair of thin trousers and a loose tunic entered, the three warriors on the couch quickly rose to their feet, placed their fisted hands over their hearts and knelt, head bowed. Surprised and a bit wary, the Jotunn stopped and raised his chin, taking in the image of fealty and submission before him. Thor was standing, a look of confusion written across his brow. He would wait for Loki. His husband was the one who had been hurt, who had spiraled down into that pit of self-loathing and doubt. He needed to make the first move.

  
Stepping forward, his claws cutting the silence audibly and making his husband blanche at the reminder of his ‘otherness,’ the Jotunn moved to stand beside Thor. The King of Asgard offered him a hand, which the other man took with a grateful smile. “Rise, Warriors Three, and please,” he gestured to the couch, “have a seat.”

  
The King and the All-Father sat as one, their hands entwined on Thor’s muscular thigh. The three men opposite them rose and sat, keeping their eyes low and heads hanging in shame, like boys who had been caught chasing a stray cat. Beside him, Loki inhaled deeply. “Thor tells me you have something you wish to say,” he said, his voice maintaining a quiet dignity and power.

  
Volstagg elbowed Fandral in the ribs none-too-gently, causing the other man to mutter, “Ow!” and moved his hand to rub his side. The blonde man raised his head and met a pair of hard, blood-red eyes which the King knew could be intimidating. Fandral broke first, dropping his gaze to the flowers he held in his hand. He slowly extended them out to the blue man, who took them with a small smile on his lips.

  
“Thank you,” Loki whispered, bringing the blossoms to his nose and inhaling silently. “It was kind of you to bring them. However, I doubt that the three of you were needed to bring me flowers.”

 

“Um...yes,” Volstagg said quietly. “We wanted to apologize for what happened in the training yard this afternoon.”

 

“It was rude of us to make assumptions about you being pregnant. We-we just heard what we thought was the word Baby-” Fandral was stammering and struggling to say his piece.

  
The All-Father cut him off. “I am pregnant.” He scowled. “What now, gentlemen?”

  
Fandral’s contrite face fell before rearranging itself into a smile. “Congratulations! That is wonderful for the two of you!”

  
“Yes, that is such great news!” Volstagg joined in, beaming in earnest. “When are you due, Loki?”

  
“Thank you,” the king boomed, wrapping an arm around his husband. “We are due in December. And we’re really, really happy about it.” He pulled the blue man into his body, rubbing his Rings, very aware that the enormous smile he had on his face was not on the face of his life-mate.

  
“I-I’m sorry. This is just strange. It’ll take a bit of time to get used to thuh-this.” Fandral said with an awkward smile on his face.

  
He could feel the Jotunn stiffen beside him. “What do you mean ‘It’ll take a bit of time to get used to this’? Are you implying that you’re fine with the two of us being married but you’re not okay with the two of us having a child? This is because it’s me, isn’t it? It’s because I was Thor’s brother, isn’t it? Or because I’m Jotunn?”

  
Thor could sense the dark cloud rolling in again. He shook the leaner man gently. “I’m sure that that is not the case, Loki. Please, let our friend Fandral finish.”

  
The blonde man smiled nervously. “Of course. I just need to get used to not hitting you so hard when we spar. And watching out for you in meetings, and the like. Right gentlemen?”

  
Hogun even nodded as Volstagg enthusiastically said, “Of course! We will keep you safe, All-Father.”

   
Thor smiled, feeling Loki relax under his arm. “I am able to take care of myself, thank you for your concern. No one was protective of me during the skirmish on Midgard.”

  
“You were pre-”Fandral said, wide-eyed.

  
“It’s because you didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t even know,” Thor said gently, pressing a kiss to his husband’s temple.

  
“Wouldn’t that be too early to tell?” Volstagg asked. “You are barely showing, if at all.”

  
“Oh,” the Jotunn said, his face falling slightly. “I am Jotunn.”

  
“We know,” the blonde warrior said. Hogun nodded once in agreement with that statement.

  
“That would make our child half-Jotunn,” the All-Father continued. “I am having a Jotunn pregnancy. It lasts twelve months.”

  
The wide-eyes of the men locked onto his life-mate. Fandral’s mouth was doing it’s fish-out-of-water thing again. Volstagg at least had had the decency to cover his gaping mouth. What was surprising was Hogun being the one that spoke. “So...you are five months pregnant?”

 

“Yuh-yes...” the prince said. “Six months at the end of June.”

  
“Can we see...?” Fandral asked quietly. “Unless there isn’t anything to see, then never mind.”

  
Loki chuckled, his rich ‘ehehe’ filling the sitting room. He stood, giving the King a loving smirk, and slowly rolled up his tunic and flipped down the waistband of his linen trousers. The bump, tiny and barely perceptible, stood out from his husband’s body, an odd angle added to his already angular form. Fandral’s hands twitched in his lap, while the large, bearded warrior reached forward towards the protrusion before hesitating.

  
“Go ahead,” Loki said. “You can touch it, though it won’t feel any different from yours, Volstagg.” The blue man chuckled again.

  
“No Loki,” the eldest warrior said, “Yours is much smaller and infinitely more precious.” His hand covered the blue abdomen. Fandral’s hand gently pushed the other man’s hand towards the side, beaming like a loon.

  
“So, Fandral,” Thor said. “When are you going to find yourself a woman? Or man? Or anything else so that I can see little Fandral’s running about with Volstagg’s brood and ours, of course.”

  
The blonde blushed. “No, I’m afraid you’re not going to see one anytime soon,” the man chortled. “I like being the only good-looking, eligible bachelor in Asgard.”

  
Hogun cut him a burning glance. “Oh, come now Hogun,” the blonde said jovially, “You are so quiet, the women barely notice that you are not a statue. It is part of your charm!”

  
The men laughed as Hogun shrugged, relenting to the honesty of the other man. Thor smiled broadly, glad that his friends accepted his life-mate, that they were willing to protect him, even when he insisted that he didn’t need protecting. He was glad to have them.

 


	31. Chapter 31

  
**The Deepest, Darkest Cell, Dungeon - Asgard**

  
“Hello Sif,” the shorter Jotunn said. “How are you today?” He placed the tray bearing half of a bleeding boar and a couple of extra pig’s ears onto the ground of the cell, resisting the urge to give in to his cravings for the ears though he eyed them greedily. Backing away from the platter that was making his mouth water, he smiled kindly at the larger blue form of his former ally. The other Jotunn was gently holding the book he had loaned it earlier in the week, turning the volume, which was large tome in his hands, looked really tiny, over and over. Slowly, the larger being handed to book back to the smaller man between two fingers. He received it with both hands, suddenly feeling rather small and insignificant.

  
“Fine,” came the deep, rumbling voice. “Thank you for the book. It was...insightful.”

  
Loki ran a calloused hand over the worn and battered leather cover with a reminiscent smile. “I understand that this is a rather large change, Sif. I just hope that this was a helpful start. If you have any other questions, or wish for further insight, please, feel free to ask. I will answer you honestly.”

  
The larger Jotunn sat on the bed, the frame bending under the weight but holding, thanks to some magical reenforcement by the All-Father. The large, scarlet eyes scanned his frame, noting the tunic and linen pants instead of the usual bare-chest and loincloth. “You’re showing.” It was a statement, not a question.

  
“Yes,” he whispered, placing a hand on his stomach. “I’m near the end of my fifth month, almost half way.” He smiled as his fingers played across the roundness. “Would you like to touch it, Sif? I don’t mind.”

  
“No,” the prisoner said flatly, “I do not.”

  
The All-Father shrugged, not at all offended by the lack of caring from the other being in the cell. “Can I tell you anything else? Is there something that wasn’t clear or something that was extremely distressing?”

  
“ _Extremely distressing?_ ” Sif growled. “This whole thing is _extremely distressing_. I am not myself anymore. I am a hideous beast living off of table scraps and uncooked meat with two sets of organs between my legs, claws on my fingers and toes, fangs in my mouth. And you want to know if you can _help me? **You killed me.**_”

  
Loki sighed, the awful sinking feeling in his stomach making him feel queasy. “I _saved_ you Sif. It was either this or execution. Do you understand that, Sif? We may have had our differences but you were loyal to Asgard, to Thor. I could not see you pay for your prejudice of me with your life. So I simply gave you a new one, one where you would have to come to terms with the fact that I am no more a monster than you, than anyone who lives on Jotunnheim. It is something that I realized during my imprisonment. I am still the same man that I was, albeit much happier and more open and accepting of others and their cultures, their ways of life and survival. It is what I hope for you.”

  
His eyes were soft, understanding. He sat, crossing his legs gracefully underneath him. “There is something on your mind, Sif. Say it.” He cupped his head in one of his hands, his elbow resting on his knee.

  
The other Jotunn cocked the muscles where its eyebrows used to be. “I am surprised that the book you lent me was in such poor condition. You tend to treat them like their your children.”

  
“Oh,” the smaller Jotunn said, surprised by the question. “I was angry and not exactly cognizant at the time. I had just spent the last three months lying on the floor procuring these.” He stroked one of his horns, looking up as if he could see them with a cockeyed smile. “I hated them, I was starving, and I had kicked it into the wall. When I bent to pick it up, I forgot about these new additions and slammed them into a wall. Which hurt awfully, and so I took it out on what I had thought caused my pain. It just happened to be that book.”

  
The other Jotunn’s ruby eyes followed his hand as it stroked his ridged horns before speaking again. “I am also concerned about the-the...added part and the lack of others.”

  
Loki blushed, his head bowing into his hands, rubbing his ridges gently. “It’s nothing to get too worked up about, Sif, honestly. I certainly wasn’t thrilled about it when I first realized what it meant. The heats were the worst - I apologize for them in advance, though I am sure that I can get you some of the Macagelan root when your time comes if you would like some.”

  
The other Jotunn shook it’s head. “No, that’s not what I’m worried about. What I am not thrilled about is the fact that I am suddenly _intersex_. What if I don’t want to be?”

  
The All-Father bit his lip. “You don’t exactly have a choice in the matter. Jotunn are intersex, that is how we have survived for millennia. You can, however, choose to refer to yourself as female. You do not have to engage in sexual relations as male, or choose not to engage at all. It’s up to you, Sif. No one else can tell you what to do with your new body and it’s parts.”

  
“Oh, okay,” the larger Jotunn breathed. Her eyes drilled into his, fiercely and commanding. “I wish to remain a female.”

  
“I will respect that, as will everyone else you interact with,” the prince assured her. “My Lady Sif. Do you have any other questions, concerns?”

  
“Can I stay here? I-I don’t want anyone to see me like this.” Her voice, though low and rumbling, seemed small and child-like. The younger, smaller Jotunn sympathized. He had certainly never wanted anyone to see him the way that he was. It had taken a rather special bird-turned-human child for him to see that.

 

“You may stay as long as you’d like, Sif,” he said honestly. “However, Thor has been wanting to see you, and I do look forward to our daily chats. I hope that we can continue this, if you will allow me to keep coming. Also, I know that Thor will come to see you tomorrow, no matter what you wish.”

  
The new Jotunn snickered. “Well, Thor has already seen me like this and lives with you, so that would be fine.”

  
Loki rolled his eyes. “And you are infinitely more attractive than I am. Especially now that I’m getting fat.” He poked his infinitesimal bump.

  
The taller Jotunn laughed outright, making Loki smile, even if the joke was at his own expense. “Are you implying that living with me would be the worst thing in all the worlds?” Then he remembered how the two of them ended up in this cell in the first place. “Don’t answer that. Thor and I are _very_ happy together. We complete each other and we’re really good together. We help each other, support each other. I can’t imagine my life without him - I think that’s something that I’ve always known, even before...well. You will understand when you find your own life-mate.”

  
He smiled softly up at the other Jotunn who smiled back. Progress was being made.  
_______________________________________________

  
**Frigga’s Gardens - Asgard**

  
Aiko sat, sketching among the flowers of her grandmother’s garden. It was one of her favorite places and her skilled fingers itched for her pad and charcoal this time of year, the tiny blossoms were just asking to be captured. The fact that her father was sitting, leaning against the trunk of a tree, his ankles crossed as he read a book had a slight impact on her decision. The butterfly that had decided to land on his horn did her in. It was just too precious to not sketch.

  
An orchid took the foreground, wrapping around the right side of the page. Behind it, was her father, reading along with his silent friend. The butterfly was rather small, a tiny being to begin with, but the added touch of color that it’s bright wings would bring to the final product was too much for her to resist. She smiled, wiping her brow and most certainly leaving a streak of charcoal across her coffee colored skin.

  
Her fingers flew across the page, smudging the coal into intricate shadowing, adding darkness to the light and bringing her father’s face to life. His cheekbones popped out of his face, highlighted by the Jotunn ridges that traversed the surface. A small smile, the one that always graced his handsome face when he had a secret, played at his lips. And, sitting here, among her grandmother’s flowers, spying on the strange blue man that had loved her at first sight, she felt like she was in on the secret too. Something inside her told her that she always would be.

  
He looked up suddenly, as if sensing her presence and beamed at her, his fangs flashing in the sunlight, impossibly white against his cerulean skin. “My Child of Love!” he called, closing the book and setting it down on his lap.

  
She closed her sketchpad and placed her charcoal in her lambskin brush holder and jogged over to the blue man. “How are you today, Blue?” she asked, smiling.

  
He patted the ground beside him. “Much better now that you are here, Darling.”

  
She sat beside him, snuggling into his side, reveling in his cool expanse. He brought her closer, throwing a slim arm around her shoulders, bared to the sun of late May. She leaned over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the leather bound book under her father’s claws. “What are you reading?”

  
“Oh, it’s a book about the recent history of Aelfheim and Svartelfheim, the extinction of the Dark Elves, the emancipation of the Elves, and the magic of the Light Elves. It’s rather fascinating. I would love to visit those realms again, though I am no longer welcome due to my-” He stopped, scowling slightly as he gestured to his body. “Among other things. I’m hoping that with a little understanding, our meetings next week will go a bit smoother than usual.”

  
Aiko, ever attuned to the blue man’s rapidly shifting moods, kissed his Bergelmir’s Tears. “Well, this might not be very diplomatic of me, but I think that they are incredibly racist and closed minded if they don’t want the man protecting their realms to set foot in them. It seems rather short sighted, if you ask me.”

  
She put her head on his shoulder, her hair draping down over the mate mark on his collarbone. “Aiko,” the All-Father murmured, “You are a fine diplomat. I am so proud of your relentless drive to bring about equality for everyone. Asgard is lucky to have you as their princess.” His cool lips skimmed her forehead lightly. “And I am lucky that you found me. I love you, so very much.”

  
She looked up at him, her sparkling blue eyes meeting his deep, ruby orbs. “I am lucky you let me in.”

  
He chuckled, his shoulder jostling her head gently with his rich ‘ehehe.’ “You jumped in, if I recall. I did not have much of a choice. You were already in.”

  
“Shut it!” she snapped sarcastically, placing a finger over his smiling mouth, laughing happily at the memory. She snuggled closer to him, finding security in his steady heartbeat. “I love you, Blue.”


	32. Chapter 32

  
**Loki’s Chambers, Bilskirnir - Asgard**

  
“Must we really go, Thor?” Loki called, his horned head shoved into his wardrobe, throwing clothing about their shared bedroom in a tizzy. He stood up, the bump prominently jutting out from between his hips, and faced his husband. “I mean, this is a celebration of my defeat. _Why_ do you insist on my presence?”

  
Thor chuckled walking around the minefield of clothing to place his hands on the stomach that had appeared a couple of days ago. Loki was nearing the six month mark and had finally begun to show in earnest, his belly button sticking out. If he concentrated really hard, his powers as All-Mother allowed him to track the movement of the purple seidr as it bounced around inside the blue man. He couldn’t get enough of it. “You swear that you threw the results into our favor, if I am recalling correctly,” he chided, placing a kiss on the end of the straight, ridge-free nose. “Besides, they will be very sad if you did not come. And we still need to tell them about this.” His large hand, big enough to cover most of the bump, rubbed it gently.

  
The Jotunn rolled his eyes with a sarcastic smirk. “Well...if you put it that way...I guess I shall accompany you to Midgard.”

  
“Excellent!” the King said enthusiastically, kissing the other man’s thin lips. “I shall make the final arrangements.”

  
Watching his husband sweep out of the room, Loki shook his horns, biting back a small chuckle. That man was going to be the death of him, of that he was certain, and yet, he wouldn’t want it any other way. He simply couldn’t imagine life without Thor.

  
He turned back to the nearly empty wardrobe. Most of his clothing was already strewn about the floor and the nest, a jumble of tunics, trousers, loincloths and breast bands of varying colors and fabrics. The trip would not be that long, but those items needed to be removed for him the reach the clothing at the back of the closet. He was not entirely sure why he had kept the gowns from his days as the King’s female companion and fiancée. Maybe it was because they reminded him of a time when he was loved by everyone, instead of generally tolerated and disliked. Maybe it was because they had made him feel beautiful, even in someone else’s skin. Either way, he was glad that he had kept them, hidden in the back of the wardrobe collecting dust for over a year.

  
The reason they were going to New York was not just to see Bruce for another appointment, though that was on the schedule. No, as Thor was a member of the Avengers, the Saviors of New York, the city was honoring him as well as the other founding members of the team. Apparently, this event happened every year, marking the anniversary of the Chitauri attack on the city, though this is the first time that the Jotunn had heard about it. Thor had gone in the past, though it was sporadic to say the least, his duties as King of Asgard keeping him busy most of the time.

  
This year, the twenty-eighth anniversary of the so-called Battle of New York, happened to fall just after the yearly budget meetings for Asgard and the renewal of trade agreements among Asgard, Vanaheim, and Aelfheim. The talks were tedious, frustrating, and horribly convoluted, and, sensing their need to take some time for themselves, Frigga had insisted that they attend the gala on Midgard. It wasn’t much of a honeymoon, but neither was the ‘real’ one where they had spent two months chasing brigands and sleeping in a tent with Thor freezing in the winter cold and Loki burning in the discomfort of the fire, or the three days that they had had on Jotunnheim where they had done, well, what was to be expected.

  
The All-Father sighed. One of these days, he was going to force Thor to actually take a vacation and they would go away, just the two of them, for a month or more where only Heimdall could find them. If Odin could take time to Sleep, then they could have a real honeyed moon. His claws brushed over his bump. Hopefully it would happen before he popped or became too large to have any fun whatsoever.

  
A soft knock carried his thoughts away. He stood, placing a hand on his lower back, which had started to throb from his reaching into the wardrobe, and turned to find Aiko standing at the door of his bedroom.

  
“My Child of Love,” he said with a large smile, his fangs flashing, “Please come in.”

  
The woman returned his enormous smile, lighting up the room, and wound her way through the clothing and into his waiting arms. “How are you, Blue?” she asked, her face buried into his silver breast band. He stroked her thick hair absently before bending to kiss the top of her head.

  
“I am well,” he replied, “Glad that you are here.”

  
She laughed. “Well, I am not helping you clean this up if that is what you’re trying to get me to do!” She gestured to the mess around them. “Why did you empty your entire wardrobe for two days on Midgard? That seems a bit extreme.”

  
He smirked. “Take a look.” He jerked his head toward the armoire and his secret stash of gowns. “I think I shall need your help.”

  
The young woman extricated herself from his arms and peered into the closet. “Oh, Blue! You kept them!”

  
“Of course I did, in case occasions such as this arose. I am to appear on Midgard among hundreds of Midgardians and I certainly can’t do it looking as I do. They would never understand. The concept would be too much for them to wrap their heads around.” He crossed his arms over his small, bound breasts and sat on the edge of the nest. “Do you see anything in there that is a bit sexy but sophisticated, fit for a queen?”

  
The rustling of layers of fine silks, charmeuse, and tulle greeted his sharp ears. His daughter’s muffled voice followed a few seconds later. “I think I found just the thing,” she said. Her body pulled back up to standing, dragging a gown with it. “I think it might also show of the bump. Make all the ladies jealous.”

  
He blushed at the thought, pleased that he could flaunt his relationship with Thor and the knowledge of their happy and growing family. He did know, after all, about the women who sought to engage in relations with his husband. They knew of Jane and many grew up with the desire to be a princess. Thor was single (or he was the last time he had been seen in public on Midgard) and he was the most attractive and perfect specimen in all the Nine. The Jotunn smirked. Those women, they were going to be in for a rude awakening.

  
The gown was scarlet, his husband’s color, and was floor length. The top was fitted down past the bottom of the butt, perfect for showcasing the small bump between his hips. The bottom was a flowing, elegant chiffon that flowed about his legs and created a short but elegant train. The back, supported by the conservative long sleeves, was completely open to the small of his back. The opening was highlighted by a cowl drape, which would swing when he walked. “If you pair this with a low up-do and grandmother’s silver and sapphire tiara, you’d be absolutely stunning.”

  
Unable to help himself, the All-Father swept the small girl up in his strong arms and kissed her fiercely on the cheek. “What would I ever do without you, Aiko?” he asked, “You are a genius!”

  
He took the gown in his claws and held it up. It was way too short on him in the form, but the idea was there. The scarlet with the blue would be astonishing, of that he was certain. After all, didn’t Thor tell him that his face was the most handsome thing he’d ever seen? And he was most certainly azure and ruby. He beamed, spinning about before his child who laughed at his silly antics.

  
Stopping he carefully packed the dress into one of his pockets in space so that it wouldn’t wrinkle. He kissed Aiko’s coffee-colored brow again lovingly. “Thank you, Darling,” he whispered.

  
“Of course, Blue. I look forward to hearing all about it!” She laughed, a high, flutey sound and bounded from the room. She had to paint the image of her father spinning with that dress before it vanished from her mind’s eye.

  
He chuckled, watching his eldest practically sprint from the room in excitement. Something had driven her to create and he knew that the result would be stunning.

  
Turning back to the nest and the floor, he idly picked up a couple of rather plain breast bands, a pair of light trousers, a tunic, a few loincloths of the casual and formal variety, and Thor’s sweatshirt. He had cut the top to allow his horns to pass through without problems, much to his husband’s displeasure, but the Jotunn liked the feel of the soft, inner fabric against his ridges and his life-mate liked taking it off of him, so the changes to the garment were quickly brushed under the carpet. Who needed lingerie when you could wea r your lover’s old, worn SHIELD sweatshirt?

  
With a flick of his wrist, the remaining clothing flew back into the armoire and arranged themselves on their proper hangers. Smirking at how quickly he had finished packing, he placed his wanted items into a small ruck sack and went in search of Frigga to see if he could beg to borrow her sapphire tiara.  
____________________________________________

  
**Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
Loki practically ran for the glass doors of the Tower, dragging Thor behind him. The summer heat of the city had hit him like a ton of bricks despite his ring, the glass of the surrounding buildings and the heated metal of the launchpad simply amplifying what would have otherwise been tolerable. “Loki!” Thor called after his swiftly moving form, “Slow down or I’m going to lose your bag off the side of the Tower!” With a rapid flick of his wrist, the baggage was elevated out of the King’s arms and transported into the penthouse. He quickly followed the luggage through the doors, praying for blessed relief from the intense heat. As the AC of the room played across his skin, hidden by his trousers and tunic, the Jotunn stopped and sighed contentedly, closing his eyes.

  
“I was beginning to wonder when you two’d show up,” the sarcastic tones of Tony Stark cut through the moment. “Welcome to our annual festivities Wannabe Jove and his ever-charming Cookie Monster.”

  
Loki’s eyes snapped open and glared at the inventor. The man continued, “Though I must commend you for your particular brand of bravery or stupidity, Frosty. I wouldn’t be showing up to a celebration of my defeat, but that’s just me.”

  
Thor’s heavy arm found it’s way over his slim shoulders. “I will have you know, friend Stark, that my husband purposefully failed in his attempt to conquer Midgard. He helped save New York as much as you did.”

  
“No,” the ex-playboy said, shaking his head and holding up a finger. “He did not carry a nuke up into a portal to God-knows-where space and had to be rescued by the Big Guy. He is not taking any of my credit.”

  
Loki laughed at the notion, his head thrown back in mirth. “Norn’s forbid I steal any of your spotlight! I don’t want it - you may keep it. After all, who _would_ show up to a party celebrating his defeat - even if it was to worthy adversaries?”

  
Steve took that opportunity to arrive, the elevator ding announcing his entry to the penthouse. “Hello Thor, Loki!” he said cheerfully, giving each man a hug and a clap on the back. “It’s been too long. March seems like it was ages ago.”

  
“The Bifrost works both ways, Steven,” the Jotunn said reasonably. “Unlike certain _other_ semi-mortals, fed off of Idunn’s apples, you have an open invitation to Asgard.”

 

“Hey!” retorted Tony, “I only wanted to drive the Bifrost once! Was it too much to ask?!”

  
“Yes,” Thor said with a smirk on his face. “Heimdall doesn’t share.”

  
“Anyway, Captain,” the All-Father continued, “Our new quarters will be complete by the end of August or the beginning of September - We’ll have plenty of guest rooms then.”

  
“Why, thank you for the offer gentlemen,” the soldier said with a small mock bow. “I will take you up on that. I’ve always wanted an extended stay in the Realm Eternal.”

  
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the Man of Iron said sarcastically, “Make your plans without me. I’m busy that week anyway.”

  
Loki looked at Thor, confused. The other man just shook his head, not quite getting what the shorter man was saying even as Steve brushed it off. The elevator doors slid open again to reveal Clint and Natasha, Freddie swinging between their arms and screeching with delight at the top of his lungs, his red curls bouncing. When the little boy saw his two long-distance uncles, he flew from his parent’s clutches and raced to the two men. “Uncle Thor! Uncle Blue! Are Tory and Daryn here too?”

  
The small Midgardian grabbed onto Thor’s legs, beaming like he had just seen the sun for the first time in years. “No, Freddie,” he said sadly, rustling the curls on the little head as he did on his own children, “They had to stay home. Their grandmother is teaching them about seidr this weekend.”

  
“What’s Say-der?” the inquisitive kindergartener asked, his eyes wide.

  
“It’s what your parents call magic,” the blue man said with a small smile on his thin lips.

  
“ _Tory and Daryn have MAGIC?!_ ” The little boy’s eyes were as big as saucers. The Jotunn, being the resident sorcerer of the crime fighting family, knelt. Gently, he took the little boy into his arms and smiled kindly at him.

  
“Freddie, we don’t know if the twins have the type of seidr-magic-that you’re thinking of. That’s why their grandmother is spending the weekend with them. You see, everyone is born with their own type of magic but as we age it specifies into different talents. Some of them could be the power of an element, like the kind your Uncle Thor has when he summons the storms, or it could be a talent, like your Uncle Tony’s abilities to create things or your father’s impeccable aim. Other’s, like myself, do have the kind of magic that you think of when you hear about magic. Either way, it takes time to discover what one’s seidr is. Unfortunately, since Daryn and Torsten have a country to run in their futures, they do not have time to allow nature to determine what their seidr is. It will need to be honed and trained beginning in September. You, Freddie, are very lucky because you get to learn about your seidr. All. By. Your. Self!”

  
The adorable red-head smiled broadly, his sea-blue eyes dancing. “I can’t wait to find out what my magic is! I hope I’m like you...or Uncle Tony...or Mommy! NO!” He gasped his pudgy little hands flying to his mouth. “I want my seidr to be like Uncle Brooze!”

  
The man who housed the Hulk was announced by the dinging of the elevator, his fiancee’s hand in his. The small woman quickly rushed to the side of her dear friend, wrapping her small arms around the tall, horned man enthusiastically. She rubbed his lower back, knowing that it was probably bothering him (it was), and just smiled. “I’ve missed you, Loki,” she murmured, applying a bit of pressure with her nimble fingers.

  
“And I, you, Asha,” he replied, returning the embrace. “Asgard is not the same without you. I hope that we can see more of each other in the future. You do have a wedding coming up, am I correct?”

  
She simply nodded, her face pulling at the tunic and worrying his Heart. A soft purr rumbled in his chest cavity as he bent to kiss her head.

  
The woman still wound around his middle, the All-Father extended a hand to the doctor, smirking slightly. “How are you, Bruce? It’s been a while.”

  
“Well, thank you for asking. And you?” The greying man cocked an eyebrow, returning the smirk.

  
“Everything is as it should be.” He patted Asha on the back. “Asha, I need to use the facilities, if you don’t mind...”

  
“Oh! Of course!” The woman smiled knowingly. “I’ll take the bags from Thor and we can head down together. I want to hear all about Helblindi and Elksa, and of course their little Aksel and their newest...”

  
As the pair walked away, two duffle bags, a ruck sack, and a rather large body pillow in tow, the inventor turned to Thor. “What’s going on, man? Is there something you’re not telling us?”

  
A look of fake offense crossed the face of the King of Asgard. “How could you imply such a thing? When have I kept anything from you?”

  
Tony walked to his bar and pulled out a bottle of aged whiskey, pouring glasses for the assembled Avengers. “Well, there was that one time when you didn’t tell us that your so-called brother was turned into a blue snow monster, or that we were invited to _his_ adoption ceremony of _your_ daughter that you and Jane had spent over a year trying to adopt. Oh, and there was that time when, again, your ‘brother’ was pregnant with _your_ children and he was spending three months in _my_ building. Um, what else am I forgetting - Oh, yeah! Your second marriage, which was supposed to be to a really beautiful woman. Yeah, she turned out to be your crazy adopted _brother_ -”

  
“We knew about that Tony. Thor told us,” Steve said, hands planted on his hips. “Why else would Aiko have asked us to be his bride’s maids and men?”

  
“Well, apparently I wasn’t here for that little party, because that was the most shocking wedding I’ve seen! And that includes Game of Thrones!” The genius philanthropist was throwing his arms about in grand, exaggerated gestures. He downed his whiskey in a single gulp and poured another. “It’s not that I’m not happy for you man. I am. Truly. You’d have to be blind not to notice how devoted the two of you are. But, come on Thunder from Down Under! The secrets keep piling up and it’s just not cool. Especially since they all involve Loki. He is the God of Mischief, I just don’t trust him.”

  
Thor rolled his eyes and sat on the sofa with a soft sigh. “Fine, Man of Iron,” he said, rubbing his face. “There is something I haven’t told you. But it involves Loki as much as it involves myself and so we will wait until his return. Besides, Friend Stark, it would be unwise for you to move against my husband. The last person who did so was not happy with the result.”

  
“Oh, really? What happened to him?” Tony said, looking unsure for the first time in the conversation.

  
“She was turned into a Jotunn,” Thor said matter-of-factly. “She wasn’t too pleased to discover that she was no longer female.”

  
The inventor gulped and quickly changed the subject. “So about this secret...” The billionaire spent the next twenty minutes harassing the Asgardian with questions and theories as to what the secret could be, each more ridiculous than the last (“Are you blue now too?” “Tony. You have eyes. You can answer that yourself.”). Thor became exasperated and wondered why it was taking his husband so long to pee as he dodged the inventor’s ridiculous queries. The rest of the team also speculated, though they quickly found the answer to the conundrum without so much as voicing anything out loud. Loki and Asha were sitting in his old room on the floor, the nest having been moved to the Master Suite, laughing at the scene as it played out in his scrying bowl, amazed that such a brilliant man couldn’t see what lay in front of him.

 


	33. Chapter 33

  
**Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
Unable to keep his husband stammering for much longer (though the entertainment of it all was very welcome), Loki and Asha returned to the Penthouse snickering uncontrollably. “What took you so long?” Tony cried exasperated as he leapt up and ushered the pair quickly over to the couches where he not so gently threw each person to their significant other in an attempt to get them seated faster.

  
“We were just catching up, Man of Iron,” the Jotunn said, feigning innocence. “We haven’t seen each other in months and I needed to know about the wedding plans. It’s all very exciting...”

  
His ramblings were cut off by the brunette. “Yes, yes. We’re all _very_ happy for Bruce and Asha. Now, _SPILL_.”

  
Loki cocked an eyebrow and looked at Thor. “What did you spill? I don’t see a puddle.”

  
The Thunderer shrugged and pulled him in close, laying a large hand on his thigh, warming the cool skin through the linen of his pants. “Friend Stark thinks that we are keeping something from him.”

  
The blue man scoffed. “Of course we’re keeping something from him. I’m the _God of Lies_. Everyone has their little secrets, they just don’t know that I know them too.” He smirked, catching the inventor in his mischievous, scarlet eyes. “What would you like me to tell, Stark? You certainly have kept many things hidden away in the dark.”

  
“No! No, I was just kidding. Just joking around,” the other man chuckled humorously before changing the subject. “I think that we should just talk about the kids. How are they all doing? Liking school? Wrecking havoc and general calamity on the populace of Asgard?”

  
Thor stiffened beside him, his hand stilling on the white of the pant leg. “Our children are well-behaved, inquisitive, and kind. They take after Jane in that regard, I believe.” 

Loki smiled, thinking of the small woman before continuing. “And they aren’t being treated any differently from one another - unlike how we were raised. I think that that has helped in some aspects.”

  
“Of course it has, my love,” Thor murmured, kissing his Bergelmir’s Tears and causing him to blush. “And it always will be. No matter what our children’s abilities are, or whether they were adopted or not, or if their as handsome as their bearer -”

  
“Or as striking as their sire,” Loki added, resting his horns gently against the side of his life-mate’s head.

  
The King of Asgard continued, “They will be loved and raised to treat all others with openness and compassion, no matter where those people many hail from-”

  
“Or what they might have done in the past,” the All-Father added, a hint of love within his voice.

 

“Our children shall be our legacy to the Nine. Our crowning and most proud achievements. Wouldn’t you agree, Loki?”

  
The blue man turned his head, smiling brightly into the sky blue eyes of his perfect other half. “Of course, Darling.” Their lips met chastely, not wanting to earn too many sounds of disgust from the teenage mind of the archer, or from the snarky billionaire. The American virgin was probably blushing too.

  
As the kiss deepened, his husband’s large, warm hand traveled from his thigh to his rounded stomach, pulsing his new, pink siedr into the depths to find their littlest one turning backflips, happy because his bearer was happy. The moment was cut short as the gathered Avengers stated their congratulations. Asha and Bruce beamed, their hands clasped together in excitement. Steve smiled, knowing that the child couldn’t ask for better parents. The assassins raised their eyebrows at each other, both wondering if the pair would stop at four children, and just how many of them would take after Loki with his penchant for trouble-making and how many would take after Thor with his rather destructive temper and fighting style. Freddie looked at his parents, confused. Clint picked the little boy up and whispered in his ear, “Uncle Blue is pregnant.”

  
“But Uncle Blue is a boy and can’t have babies! He doesn’t hava youteris.”

  
The confused looking Iron Man suddenly connected all of the dots that the rest of their friends had connected long before. “You’re _PREGNANT?!? AGAIN!?_ ”

  
Breaking their kiss, Loki rolled his eyes at the exasperated mortal man with the glowing chest. “Yes, again, Stark. That’s what you do when you love someone. You have a family together.”

  
“But Dad! That doesn’t make sense! Only Mommies have youterises. That’s what you said. That’s what you told me!”

  
“You taught your five year old about sexual relations?” Thor asked, wide-eyed, remembering the conversation about hugs shared by married people last month with his own kindergarteners.

  
“Well, yeah,” Clint said, earning a sharp jab to his ribs from his partner before muttering, “Apparently, I should have talked to Nat about it first.”

  
“You bet you should have! He’s FIVE, Clint! And now poor Loki has to deal with this fall out.” She turned to face the blue man. “I am so sorry about this.”

  
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Come here, Freddie. Sit on my lap,” the All-Father said, opening his arms to the little red-head. The boy wandered over, unsure, his brow furrowed in confusion, his eyes wary. “I swear, Freddie, I am the same Uncle Blue I was two minutes ago,” he murmured, giving the boy a small grin, one of his fangs slipping over his lower lip.

  
The boy climbed into his lap, letting the slim, cool arms envelop him while a clawed hand placed his smaller one onto his rounded abdomen. “Do you feel that?” The boy nodded, running his hand along the hard rounding between his hips. “That is a baby. And it is in my uterus because, unlike your father and your mother, I am not human. Can you believe that?” He chuckled, bouncing Freddie a bit on his knee.

  
The child laughed. “I can believe that.” His free hand, the one not pressed into the blue stomach beside him, began to trace the Claws and Ring on his left arm.

  
“Well, because I am not human, I am something different. I am what is called a Jotunn. Can you repeat that for me?”

  
The boys blue eyes met his ruby pair. “Yo-ton.”

  
Loki smiled, “Yes, very good. Unlike humans, Jotunn have only one sex, meaning that each of us could be mommies and daddies if we wanted to. So, when Uncle Thor and I got married in December, we decided that we wanted to have a child and, since I have a uterus as well as a penis and Uncle Thor only has the latter, we decided that I should carry the baby. Does that make sense?”

  
The little boy nodded, fascinated by the bump of rough royal blue skin. “When is the baby coming, Uncle Blue?”

  
“December,” the Frost Giant said quietly. “Are you excited about having a new friend?”

  
“Yes!” Freddie said enthusiastically. “Are you going to name him Opie?”

  
Thor’s eyes bugged out of his head, remembering that that was the name of Clint’s seeing eye dog turned family pet. Loki laughed. “Well, I do really like that name but we don’t want the first Opie to get confused, so, no, we are not planning on calling the baby Opie. Besides, it might be a girl.”

  
“Is it?” the boy on his knee asked, his voice hardening. It was rather obvious that he wanted another boy to play with.

  
“We don’t know yet, and, honestly, we want it to be a surprise. The only person who might know is Uncle Brooze, and I know that he won’t tell.”

  
“But, wait a second,” Tony cut in. “If you’re the God of Lies and Bruce is keeping the gender of the baby a secret, then wouldn’t you know it already?”

 

“Seriously Stark,” Loki said flatly, “You fell for that?”

  
“Oh, come _on!_ ”   
_______________________________________________

  
Thor winced as he heard his husband hiss from behind the partially closed bathroom door. “Loki? Are you alright?”

  
“Fine,” came the light, flutey reply. “It’s just the horns, Darling. They get caught on my frontal lobe during retraction.”

  
The God of Thunder sighed, wishing that Midgard was ready to accept someone like his husband. He was so striking just the way he was, but if he were to show up in public as a Jotunn...he shuddered at the thought. The results would probably not be good. “Ok, just let me know if you need anything.”

  
A lighter version of his husband’s ‘ehehe’ echoed around the bathroom walls. “I am not letting you anywhere near my hair and make-up tonight. Not when I have the hopes and dreams of thousands of women to shatter.”

  
Thor shook his head, straightening his tie as he took in his appearance in the full-length mirror on the inside of the closet door. The black slacks were fitted, a bit too tightly for his liking, but Loki had picked them out, so he would wear them even if they seemed molded to his butt. The shirt was a silver-grey, a dull backdrop for the black tie. He reached back into the closet and pulled out a deep red coat. It was an early Name Day gift from Loki and he had to admit that, unlike the trousers, he loved it. It was long, covering his butt before stopping a little above mid-thigh. It was tapered, hugging his muscled chest but flared enough about his waist to not restrict his movement. There was plenty of arm room, despite his rather large biceps. It was warm but not overly so, perfect for a late June night in the city. Plus, he was sure that his husband had not packed any sort of cover-up, not that he’d need it, but he could picture the coat draped about his slim shoulders as they left the gala for the night.

  
The door to the bathroom creaked open to reveal a small woman with long, ebony tresses tied into an intricate low knot, a delicate tiara of sapphires and silver placed above her pale and luminescent brow, matching the chandelier earrings that hung from her lobes. Her large, emerald eyes were highlighted by gold and silver shadow and lined with black liner and mascara. Her full lips, smiling lovingly, were stained red, the same shade of scarlet as the gown she wore. The long sleeves encased her well-muscled arms were met by a high, straight neck and a tight but flattering sheath pasted her small, pert bottom. It flared out into a full skirt of wispy, semi-transparent fabric, showing off slim and shapely legs and delicate feet encased in a pair of silver stilettos. The baby bump, nestled between her wider hips, was noticeable without making her appear fat. The woman spun to show the back of the gown, open to the small of her back before flowing into a small train.

  
Emerald eyes sparkled at him from over her shoulder. “What do you think? Too much?”

  
Unable to resist, the God of Thunder wound his arms around his now much smaller husband and kissed the ruby lips deeply. “Perfect,” he whispered. “You are perfect.”  
_____________________________________________

  
**The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City - Midgard**

  
Loki’s nerves were getting the best of him. He sat beside Thor in the back of what Steve had called a limousine, the leather seat sticking to his bare back, his fingers playing with the silky hem of his gown. Thor, as reassuring as always, was smiling at him as if he held all of the answers to the questions of the universe. It was the look he always received after they had had mind-blowing sex, or when they were cuddling, or when the blubbering oaf so much as saw his rounded stomach, or when he did anything with his seidr. Or, he realized, pretty much all the time. He smiled back, reaching a hand to the larger man, who took it and brought the pale, unmarred skin to his soft, pink lips.

  
The Jotunn blushed fiercely, knowing that this form showed the blood that rushed to his cheeks. Thor stroked the reddening area with a thumb, caressing the sentiment as he too blushed. The car stopped, the dark interior pulsated with flashes from the cameras outside. Loki’s eyes widened. As if sensing his trepidation, the King of Asgard leaned in and placed a deep, reassuring kiss against his lips. “I love you so much.”

  
When he pulled back, some of the paint had come with him, making the other man chuckle, a light and airy sound. Swiping a thumb over the patch of lipstick that coated the right side of his husband’s upper lip, Loki was reminded that he was not going to be alone in this endeavor. No, he had Thor, and that was all he needed. “Are you ready?” the Thunderer rumbled.

  
“Let’s go greet the world,” the prince replied, taking a calming inhale.

  
The door opened to a loud rush of noise, the crowd was yelling, asking for pictures and autographs and interviews as cameras clicked, leaving the red carpet walkers blinded in their lights. Loki blinked, stealing himself for the assault, and took the large hand that Thor offered to him in his much smaller one, slipping from the car.

  
“THOR! THOR!”

  
“LOOK OVER HERE, GOD OF THUNDER!”

  
“GIVE US A WAVE!”

  
“WHO’S THAT WOMAN?”

  
“DOES ASGARD HAVE A NEW QUEEN?”

  
“LOOK HERE PLEASE!”

  
The noise was unbelievable and Loki, unused to people outside of his family actually wanting pictures of him, felt overwhelmed. Thor squeezed his hand reassuringly, bringing him back to the real world. The one where it was just the two of them and no one else. The one they would get back to tomorrow, if he got through tonight. He smiled and gave the larger hand a squeeze back, stepping away from the safety of the car, and into the throng. Farther up the carpet was Steve, dressed in his military best from the forties, looking happy to have it on and, despite it’s antique quality, very sharp. In front of him, one arm wound around a pretty but small Vanir woman, was Bruce. He was wearing his traditional purple shirt under a light brown suit while Asha wore a gown of a certain green that may or may not match a certain Avenger, her hand on her hip, flashing the diamond that perched on her third finger. Loki looked about him, certain that the rest of the occupants of the carpet were Midgardian celebrities of some kind or other, or they were high-ranking officials. He was sure that he would find out as the evening progressed.

  
“Shall we go further down?” Thor asked, whispering in his ear so he couldn’t miss what he was saying. “The longer we stand here, the longer this is going to take.”

  
“True,” Loki murmured back. “Let’s get this over with.”

  
“Mr. Odinson,” a young man with a clipboard and a communication devise in his ear approached them. “I’m Brett, I’ll be your publicist this evening.”

  
Thor held out a hand, which the much smaller man took tentatively, and shook it vigorously. “Thank you Brett. What shall we do first?”

  
“Um, well,” the man said flexing his aching fingers and hand, “The people at Entertainment Tonight are available for an interview. Let’s go to them first.”

  
As they were ushered along the carpet, camera’s flashing, questions being hollered at them from every angle, Loki clung to Thor’s hand, worried about getting lost. When they reached their destination, only about ten feet from where they had just been, Brett said, “Mr. Odinson, they’ll see you now,” and pulled them apart. Loki gasped, his suddenly empty hand made him feel so very alone. Thor gave him a reassuring smile, and turned to meet the blonde woman with the microphone.

  
“Thor!,” she exclaimed cheerfully, “Are you feeling excited about this anniversary of the Avenger’s victory over Loki in the Battle of New York?”

  
“Well, yes I am,” his husband replied, his smile oozing charm. It made Loki want to turn the other woman’s hair an unsightly shade of pink. “I am especially excited because I don’t get to Midgard very often these days and I was able to take some time away from my duties as King of Asgard to spend the weekend with my wife. That it’s the anniversary of the founding of the Avengers is just an added bonus.”

  
Loki blushed fiercely, his thoughts no longer on the color that he was going to turn the interviewers hair and more on what he was going to do to Thor when they got back to Avenger’s Tower.

  
“You’re married!” the woman exclaimed, obviously surprised. “That’s wonderful! Is she here with you tonight?”

  
“Of course!” Thor replied matter-of-factly. “I don’t go anywhere without her. She’s my perfect other half.” He turned to Loki, offering his hand, which he took gratefully beaming. “Come, Loki, meet this lovely Midgardian woman.”

  
“Loki?” the blonde asked, confused.

  
“Yes,” the Thunderer replied. “This is my wife, Loki.”

  
The Jotunn smiled politely. “Loki is a common name on Asgard,” he murmured, nervously, hoping that she’d buy it.

  
She did. “Well folks, you heard it here first! Our favorite Asgardian bachelor is off the market again. He’s married to a truly stunning woman named Loki, no relation to his adopted brother, the supervillain who tried to invade Earth during the Battle of New York.”

  
Loki smirked. _If only she knew._

  
The rest of the interviews were basically the same, with the interviewers asking basic questions about his husband’s life in Asgard. He is beaming, as most of the questions revolved around him. He had apparently made quite an impression among the ladies who had hoped to claim his life-mate for themselves. It was all he could do to not throw his considerably smaller body around Thor and emphasize his claim right there. It was their second to last interview that the question was asked. A young man from some magazine was staring at him a bit too intensely for his husband’s liking and noticed it, the bump, small but round just under where his belly button was. “Can I ask if your family will be expanding within the year?”

  
Thor took Loki’s hand, his eyes, shining like the brightest stars, met his emerald ones. He playfully bit his lips, raising his eyebrows at his taller lover. Still looking into his eyes, the King of Asgard whispered, “Yes. We’re due in December and we couldn’t be happier about it.”

  
“May I offer my sincerest congratulations. I am certain that it will be an absolutely beautiful baby.”

  
“Thank you,” the tall blonde responded, placing his hand on the bump, which caused a flurry of photographers to capture the moment. “Any child that has Loki’s striking genes will be beautiful, just like she is.” The Jotunn could feel the blush rising in his cheeks and bowed his head in habit, again reminded of how much his husband loved his true self.

  
Word spread and by the time the couple had reached the end, the amount of photos and interviews that involved both of them increased dramatically. The last batch of photographers received a treat when the God of Thunder took a knee on the carpet and, taking one of Loki’s feminine hands, placed his lips to his bump. The All-Father was certain that he would have been blinded by the rapid flashes from the bulbs that surrounded them, except all he could see was his husband, kneeling before him and loving his changing body and the babe that was growing within.

  
“Thor,” he whispered huskily, “Let’s get inside, please. We don’t need the press to see what’s going to happen next.”

  
The twinkle in his eyes was enough to get his husband to his feet, and, with a wave to the gathered press and fans, they entered the museum. Grabbing the much larger hand, and moving as quickly as his rather thin heels would allow, the Trickster pulled his life-mate into the cloak room. He wrapped his arms around the other man’s strong neck and jumped, his legs wrapping around Thor’s muscular waist. “I’ve been wanting to do this for over forty-five minutes,” he whispered, his voice rough despite the higher pitch.

  
He ran his nose along the other man’s beard, planting heated kisses along the tanned skin of his face, glad that his lipstick had long dried so that he wasn’t leaving scarlet traces all over his husband’s face. Thor’s large hands ran over his exposed back and kneaded his ass seductively, pushing his sensitive bosom into his built chest. Their mouths met, moaning and gasping for each other as if they were the last two people on Midgard. Their tongues entwined, tasting each other, scraping over teeth and stroking the roofs of each other’s mouths.

  
Slowly realizing through his complete and total haze of lust and his consuming jealousy, the All-Father realized that they were in a public place and that someone was watching them. Breaking off the kiss, his teeth pulling on the taller man’s lower lip seductively. “Enjoying the show, Stark?” he asked, still looking deeply into his life-mate’s blown-out pupils.

  
“How did you know?” the astonished inventor gasped. “You’re not even looking a me!”

  
“I’m used to feeling eyes on me wherever I go, Man of Iron,” he said, sliding down his husband’s body, feeling bad when he felt the straining erection beneath his zipper that was being left unattended, and turned around, smoothing the front of his gown. “I know when I’m being watched.” He shrugged, raising his eyebrows. “It’s the plus side of being a freak wherever you go.”

  
“Loki...”

  
“Thor,” he sighed, placing a hand gently on his lover’s arm. “Not here. Please. We both know that I look the way I do tonight for a reason.” He refocused on the billionaire. The man was checking him out, even with the visible baby bump and the knowledge that it wasn’t what he truly looked like. “As flattering as your obviously lustful scan of my current body is, I would like to remind you that I am a married woman and what I do with my husband is private.” He raised a claw-like hand, sparkling with green seidr. “I suggest you run along.”

  
The man, smartly, left the cloak room. “I’m sorry we can’t finish this now, Darling, but I promise you that the wait will be worth it,” he murmured, squeezing his husband’s arm.

 


	34. Chapter 34

  
**Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City - Midgard**

  
The pair emerged, looking flawless, from the cloak room about five minutes later. Loki was thankful that he was, indeed, a sorcerer of the highest degree, because what transpired after Tony left the room was not exactly PG. He couldn’t leave his life-mate in such a state of need. Thor’s large hand rested on the small of his back, the heat comforting him as they wound through the crowd of VIP’s within the main gallery. Waiters, dressed in ties and tails, wove through the crowd with silver platters of food. The pregnant man’s stomach rumbled, eyeing the food that he couldn’t eat. Thor, Norn’s bless the man, began scanning the trays for anything raw, and pulled it onto a small china plate. Sushi rolls, tea sandwiches, baby carrots from the veggie tray, shrimp all found their way onto the plate.

  
The King of Asgard ushered his husband to a tall table with no chairs - the main meal was later - and snatched another plate from the center. He placed the raw carrots and shrimp onto the other plate and pushed it towards his husband. His surprisingly nimble fingers began to take apart the sandwiches and sushi rolls, brushing off the raw fish, clearing it of anything that was not root material or raw meat. He tenderly placed it onto his husband’s plate, placing a kiss where his Bergelmir’s Tears would have been. Loki blushed, placing his delicate hand over the much larger hand of his husband. “Thank you,” he murmured, returning the kiss, chastely claiming his husband’s lips before unceremoniously stuffing his face with the food. He was starving, the baby driving his hunger through the roof. At the back of his mind, he realized that the weight was going to start coming now that his appetite had arrived.

  
He placed a hand on his stomach as Thor went in search of water for him and a glass of ale or mead for himself. He had told the All-Mother that he didn’t need to deprive himself for his sake, especially not after he picked through his food for him so that he didn’t get ill. He was dreading dinner and prayed that his diet wouldn’t draw too much attention. He didn’t care if he had to go out and kill it himself, he wanted raw, red meat and that was what he was going to get.

  
“Hello.” Loki turned to look at an unimpressed and rather bored Natasha. She looked beautiful, as always, in a black sheath dress with a high neck and cap sleeves that stopped mid-calf. She was a bombshell, and he wasn’t ashamed to say it as a married man.

  
“Nat, you look stunning, as always,” he said beaming at his surprising ally from his first pregnancy.

  
“Yes, well, everyone is talking about you. The alien’s _wife_.” She smirked. “Boy, if only they knew.”

  
“You have no idea,” the Jotun said. “Part of me wonders what would happen if I dropped my glamour right now. Part of me wants to try it. But at the same time, I couldn’t do that to Thor. To have people realize that he is married to a monster would ruin his sparkling reputation, and I can’t do that to him. Not after everything he’s done for me.”

  
“Yeah,” the assassin said, smiling secretively, “I noticed the bit with the sushi and finger sandwiches. You’re a lucky man.”

  
He noticed the tall form of his life-mate winding his way back through the crowd towards his table. “Yes, yes, I most certainly am.” He gave a small smile. “The luckiest in so many ways.”

  
“Natasha!” Thor boomed when he reached the table, “Keeping my life-mate company, I see.” He wrapped an arm around his husband’s thin shoulders. “Thank you for watching him for me.”

  
“Careful there, Your Majesty,” the Widow whispered. “He’s your _wife_ tonight. She is wonderful company, as usual.”

  
“Of course she is. She had the best personality in all the Nine.” He felt a kiss on the top of his head, behind his mother’s tiara. He snuggled closer to his husband’s heat, missing the contrast that the action usually brought. “We’re going to be seated soon. You’re next to Tony.”

  
“Ugh. Really?!” The read-head rolled her eyes. “Please tell me the Clint is on my other side.”

  
“Of course,” Thor said cheerfully, “He’s your partner. The father of your child.”

  
“And where are we sitting?” Loki looked up at his life-mate, eyebrows raised. “I don’t think I can deal with Tony harassing me while I eat. Or not eat, depending on what’s being served.”

  
The King of Asgard rubbed his husband’s arms reassuringly. “We’re next to Bruce and Steve. And I will get you something to eat, even if I have to kill it in order to do so.”

  
“You know,” the Jotunn said, “Just an afterthought. We should have told them about my dietary restrictions. I’m going to be eating things that others may consider to be _unsavory_ in the presence of mortals.”

  
His husband stiffened. “Yes, that would be a good idea. Maybe next time we’ll remember to do that.” He kissed his brow. “I’m surprised that you didn’t think about this earlier, Darling.”

  
The All-Father bit his lips in frustration. “I’m six months pregnant, Thor. I have pregnancy brain, which means that I forget things. I am not to blame for this.”

  
“Forgive me, my Love. We’ll work it out.” His husband’s hands moved to his waist and he was led to a table near the front of the crowd. He wove through the crowd, his lower back held by the most loving hand in the Nine, and felt exceedingly attractive with every eye in the building on him. A building that was filled with celebrities and models, and every eye was on him. He knew that he was beaming and blushing, the perfect wife for the husband who was an actual god. He could feel the jealousy in every gaze, and he loved it.

  
Thor pulled out his chair for him, and he swept back his skirts, smoothing the silky material against his perky butt, making a show of it. Looking up, he chastely kissed his husband, loving the scratch of his beard against his lips (the hair was soft against his rough, Jotunn skin), and heard a collective sigh from the rest of the gathering. Yup, he had them in the palm of his hand. A hand that his life-mate promptly took once he had taken his seat on his left side. On his right was Bruce, someone that Loki was glad to sit beside him. He knew that the man didn’t care about what he ate, which certainly made the Jotunn more comfortable in his eating habits. The man out of time was on his husband’s left, a comfortable cushion between Tony and the King of Asgard, in the All-Father’s opinion, and he had already engaged his husband in conversation, something about trade agreement meetings in Asgard and UN meetings on Midgard. Loki wasn’t quite following, but that was fine. He had Thor’s hand wrapped around his, and he had Bruce telling him all about the wedding he was planning with Asha for October with a little bit of baby talk thrown in. Everything was perfect, or as perfect as it could be, given the circumstances.

  
A tux-clad waiter arrived at Bruce’s side, cutting off their conversation and giving rise to his nervousness. When the man went around to his left side, the Jotunn inhaled slowly and smiled kindly. “Hello,” he said sweetly.

  
“Hello Milady,” the young man said, a small blush rising to his cheeks. “We are serving steak this evening, with sautéed seasonal vegetables and seasoned baked potatoes.”

  
“That sounds delicious,” Loki said, smiling brightly. “Now, you may not know this, but I am not from this realm, and thus, I have dietary restrictions.”

  
“Of course, Milady,” the young man smiled with a small nod of understanding. “What can I do to fit your dietary needs?”

  
The All-Father swallowed, his smile slipping a tiny bit. “Alright, good sir,” he began, “I would like my steak to be raw. Not rare - raw. I would like my potatoes to be uncooked and unseasoned. I do not want the vegetables. Thank you.”

  
“Oh, okay,” the boy stammered. “I will try my best.” Loki noticed that his smile had disappeared and broke eye contact, his cheeks flushing a deep red. He felt a large hand come to rest on his silk covered thigh with a reassuring squeeze and he quickly placed his own hand on top of it, grasping it as tears stung his eyes.

  
“Loki,” a soft, kind voice whispered, “Come on man. It doesn’t matter what they think.” Despite his tears, he opened his eyes to meet the brown eyes of the doctor. The man was smiling at him sadly. His voice dropped lower. “You need to eat for the baby and if you’re not getting your Aesir cravings that the twins gave you, then you need to eat what your body wants.”

  
The Jotunn sighed, giving a small smile to the greying mortal. “Thank you, Bruce. I appreciate your support and advice.”

  
The waiter moved off, freeing up his life-mate, who promptly leaned over and kissed his scarlet cheek. “I love you,” he whispered, his beard scratching the smooth, soft skin. He leaned into the sensation, his smile becoming genuine.

  
“I love you too, you big oaf,” he murmured, turning to capture the pink lips that had marked his cheek.

  
“And now I’m going to go talk to my fiancée,” the man who housed the Hulk muttered, a smirk on his face.

  
“Oh, come now Bruce,” Loki said cheerfully, “You don’t have to leave on our account. Asha may join us.” The Vanir woman promptly laughed raucously, a small, undignified snort slipping in, causing Loki to laugh in turn. “Asha,” he gasped, “I think we’re making your dear doctor jealous. Would you like to join in our conversation?” He turned to look at his gorgeous husband. “We were just going to discuss what flowers we should bring to your wedding. Is there anything that you like from our Mother’s gardens? Something that you can’t get here on Midgard?”

  
The food arrived quickly, breaking up their discussion of the wedding. Loki smiled kindly at the server, who looked a bit afraid as she set down the plate of oozing, raw meat and unpeeled, rock hard potatoes. “Thank you, Darling,” he said enthusiastically, beaming as his stomach rumbled. The hunger that rolled through him made him forget his dietary requirements as he picked up his silverware. The utensils felt foreign to his hands without his claws getting in the way, but he didn’t let that stop him. He cut the meat and potatoes into dainty pieces, keeping up appearances as the blood leaked from the steak and was promptly soaked up by the potatoes.

  
His stomach gurgled, and he plunged his fork into the mess on his plate, quickly stuffing the food into his salivating mouth with a soft moan. “Oh, by the Norns!” he practically sobbed as the delicious taste flooded his mouth. “This is delectable. Thor, you are not getting any of this.”  
His husband gave him a small smile. “I wasn’t planning on it, Darling. It’s all yours. Well, and the little one’s. I would never want to take anything away from your precious cargo.”

  
A glass tinged, piercing the Jotunn’s delicate ears, causing him to look up. There was a gentleman in a very smart, but not too expensive suit. He looked to Thor, who mouthed, _The mayor of New York._

  
_Oh_ , Loki mouthed, returning his gaze to the diminutive man holding the microphone. The man began his speech with a nervous smile on his face. “Now that everyone has been served, I would like to welcome you to our annual celebration of the Battle of New York. It was twenty-eight years ago today that the Avengers assembled for the first time. This ragtag band of misfits had to settle their differences to stop the conquest of the dastardly Loki and his Chitauri in his quest to conquer the Earth and bring it to kneel before him. Without the individual talents the of each of the individual Avengers brought to the team, who knows what our world would be like now.” The gathering applauded, cheering filled the echoing space.

  
The Jotunn shook his head, thinking about what actually happened and how the Midgardian mayor didn’t even know that half of it. He would have been a benevolent ruler. Thanos, his controller, the man who manipulated him, would not have been as kind.

  
The mayor continued, lauding the achievements of his husband’s superhero team mates and discussing their various confrontations against other supervillains. He was not personally mentioned again except in passing, the mention of his joining with Bruce and Tony to create vaccines for devastating, and not so devastating diseases. It made him smirk at his inexplicable turn around in the eyes of the Midgardians. How little they knew what had actually transpired, what shame he still felt as they toasted the successes of his husband and friends.

  
Turning his attention from the mayor, he continued to eat, thankful that his specifications were followed. Thor’s hand rested on his thigh, warm and comforting. The man wrapped up his speech sometime later, and the audience clapped and cheered, thrilled and pleased to be a part of the celebrations of the Avengers. Loki was sure that the team would have much rather have stayed in the Tower, watching a movie or sharing stories from their time apart. No one particularly wanted to be sitting there, dressed in their best, soaking in the admiration for something that they probably would have done anyway.

  
After his plate was completely clean and the clapping had subsided, his husband offered him his hand. With a shy smile, the Jotunn rose from his place and joined the God of Thunder on the dance floor where they spun together for hours until the event ended. Loki forgot his insecurities, Thor’s hand cradling the small of his back while his other hand was tenderly held his slim right hand, guiding him across the smooth floor. He felt as if he was floating, particularly glad for the dancing lessons that he had received from his Mother the previous spring when he had first taken on the guise of Oriana to fool all of Asgard. The centrally placed dance space allowed him to people watch, something he had always enjoyed but couldn’t indulge in in his typical form. When you’re the odd one out, it was difficult to just sit somewhere and watch the comings and goings of the populace. Tonight, however, was an exception. He was still the center of attention, but he was not the only one. Other couples, even Tony and Pepper, attempted to keep up with the royal couple and failed utterly in their dancing skills. Both boys had been trained at young ages, dancing being a central part of many feasts and crucial to courting the daughters of high-ranking dignitaries. How ironic that those skills were being used with each other instead of with others.

  
Finally, the people began to file out, tiring and heading home for the evening. The Jotunn, his head ache from his retracted horns beginning to irritate him to know end, shot his husband a meaningful looks. “Shall we go, my Love?” Thor asked, wide-eyed and smiling kindly.

  
“Please,” the All-Father whispered. “I have a terrible head ache and my back is killing me.”

  
“Alright then,” his husband murmured, placing a gently kiss on his cheek. “I will alert the valet that we want the car brought around.” With one last kiss on his lips, the larger man walked through the crowd, leaving Loki alone at the edge of the dance floor.

  
“Excuse me,” a soft voice said, a finger tapping him on the shoulder.

  
Loki turned to find a tall, model-esque blonde staring down at him, recording devise in hand. “I wasn’t aware that press was allowed inside the building,” he said evenly, raising his eyebrows. “Can I help you with something?”

  
“Yes, please,” she said, the tiny smile on her lips unsettling him to no end. “I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of questions. I’m from _Marie Claire_ magazine.”

  
The Jotunn sighed internally, not pleased that the woman had singled him out. “You may ask the questions but I uphold my right to withhold information.”

  
The smile that faced him was a bright pink and filled with condescension. “Of course.” The lady took a deep breath and began. “Who are you wearing tonight? Your dress is divine.”

  
“Um...” Loki hesitated, completely drawing a blank. “I am not sure. I do not dress up like this often - in Midgardian fashion, I mean - and so I borrowed the gown from my niece, Princess Aiko. I did not pay attention to the tag.”

 

“Oh well,” the reporter said with a tight smile. “How did you and your husband meet?”

  
The Jotunn scrambled frantically to come up with some semblance of the truth placed into a more elaborate lie. “We grew up together...well, attending the same schools. He was kind to me, but...we grew apart. I left for the outer reaches, where my family has their fief and we reconnected last year when I went to the King and Council to beg for more aid for my people. We just kind of fell back into our past relationship and then realized that it could be something more. And here we are.” He shrugged, smiling brightly.

  
The woman shrugged, mirroring him in a farce to play nice. “How do you get along with the royal family? I understand that they were rather smitten with the last Queen, Jane Foster from New Mexico. It must be hard filling her shoes.”

  
The All-Father smiled sadly. “Lady Jane and I were very close, like siblings almost. It was a terribly sad day when she passed away, and at such a young age. I felt like a part of me was lost, as did Thor. It was a bonding experience for the two of us. I have gotten along well with the rest of the family for as long as I can remember. Frigga, the All-Mother, had always been kind to me and I really do love the children.”

  
“What about the other Loki? Is he as reformed as we are made to believe?” The other woman’s eyes were piercing, delving into his very soul.  
“Yes, he has changed. He and I get along quite well, which is good, considering that Thor is very close with his younger brother.”

  
“Rumor has it that they get along _very well_ , if you catch my drift.” The blonde raised her eyebrows, leaning in towards him as if sharing a secret. Loki was unsure of how to react to the question. He would either come across as naive and stupid, or he could come across as the man that defiled the King. He didn’t know what to say or do, so he just stood there, blinking away at the tight face of the other woman.

  
“Excuse me?” he stammered, the two words being the only two that could cross his lips. It was at that moment that a thick arm wrapped about his waist.

  
“Making new friends, are we Loki?” a rumbling thunder of a chuckle said, cutting off the conversation. “The car is ready. Come along, Dearest.”

  
“I’m terribly sorry,” he said to the woman, not feeling sorry in the least. “I must be going.” Led by Thor, he was wound through the crowd and out the main doors, thankful that he was able to escape that woman’s clutches.


	35. Chapter 35

**Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
The door to the Asgardian suit slammed shut behind the couple, kicked shut by the Thunderer’s foot. Thor had him in a bridal carry, his strong arms wound under his knees and supporting his back. The night had been interesting and Loki had enjoyed himself for the most part, with the exception of the disgusted look on the serving staff’s faces and the strange, blonde journalist. However, he was exhausted and grateful for his husband’s willingness to carry him. His feet were killing him from the thin heels that he had danced in for hours, his lower back and hips were aching from the added pressure of the baby as well as the dancing, and his horns had gone from a dull throb to a fierce, punching pain.

  
“Please, set me down Thor,” he whispered, resting his head against his husband’s shoulder, the mate mark hidden beneath the fabric of the grey shirt. His husband’s jacket had been wrapped around his slim shoulders as soon as they had exited the gala, warming him, even though he didn’t feel the slight chill of the late night air. A soft kiss, ringed with rough stubble pressed against his temple, covering where his right horn would be. The lips moved to cover his left as well, bringing him comfort despite the pain.

  
The God of Thunder did not set him down. “Loki,” he murmured, his nose running along his ebony hairline, “I am not letting go of you tonight. I want to hold you until my arms ache and beyond that.”

  
“Thor,” the Jotunn whispered, “I can’t stay like this.”

  
Big, blue eyes filled with love looked down at him. “I know. I don’t want you to.” He shook his head, his eyes going wide and his mouth opening slightly. “I want to help you, to see you, to hold you to me, and protect you from harm.”

  
“What if it’s self-inflicted? I can’t have you seeing me shift, and change, holding me tenderly when you should be holding this.” He gestured to his petite, feminine form.

  
“Why are you saying this?” His husband’s eyes clouded. “I’ve seen you drop your glamour before. It’s not new. And what is this about what you look like?”

  
“You should be with a beautiful woman, someone the public will adore. Someone who could promise you a beautiful, perfect child that looks just like his or her father. Someone who wouldn’t be a lie.” He cursed his hormones as his eyes began to tear again.

  
Thor’s well-muscled arms pulled him closer to his chest. “Loki, if anyone in this room is a lie - it’s me. I shouldn’t have let you go out tonight looking the way you do. I-I should have showed off the _man_ that I married, that I’m mated to. That I fell in love with, and that I am proud to call mine. I love you, no matter what you look like, but...you just never seem to be _you_ unless you’re that perfect cerulean, those beautifully intricate lines of silver over every inch of your statuesque body. Your impossibly infinite eyes of ruby are the most stunning eyes in all the Nine.” His husband’s large hand brushed through his hair as it tumbled from the pins that held it together. “Your horns, ridged and smooth, that add such an air of importance to you. They’re so commanding and regal. And your body, lean and fit, just turns me on beyond any doubt, and now it’s changing, molding itself to grow my child - _our child_ , who will be gorgeous, no matter if it looks exactly like me or if it looks exactly like you or something in between. But I will love every added inch to your figure because it just makes you more beautiful.” His hand came up and cradled his head against chest, the heartbeat giving him comfort. “I should have shown _you_ off tonight.”

  
“Thor,” he breathed, shaking from the pain of his head, hips, and back. “I can’t hold out much longer.”

  
“Then don’t,” the Thunderer said. “Let me get this gown off of you and then you can let go.”

  
Loki smiled, allowing his lover to slowly pull the gown down his curved body. His hands were gentle, caressing his every line and tracing his bump before releasing his body, fully nude to the cool air of the apartment. The strappy stilettos came next, easing his throbbing feet from their confines. Once he was free, the other man’s arms gathered him back into his chest. “It’s ok, Loki. You can return to your handsome self. I’ll just hold you.”

  
“You don’t have to do tha-” His statement was cut off with a sharp gasp as his toes shifted first, his claws erupting, followed by his hooked big toes and high arches. His body lengthened and slimmed, his feminine curves flowing into his masculine angles. His jaw ached as his fangs sharpened and lengthened as he opened his mouth against the pressure that built in his forehead, the horns that resided there erupting violently. “Ah!” he moaned, feeling Thor’s arms hold him tighter against the necessary pain.

  
When his prominences stopped their upward thrust, he sighed, collapsing against the burning heat of the Thunderer. His husband’s lips placed themselves under his horns, their usual tradition after a shift, soothing the irritated area. “I love you, Loki,” he whispered against his horns. “My little Jotunn.” The last statement was barely audible.

  
“What did you just call me?” the blue man asked, nuzzling his lover’s neck.

  
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” Thor mumbled, leaning his cheek against his Bergelmir’s Tears.

  
“No,” he murmured. “I like it. Please, don’t feel badly about it. It _is_ the truth, isn’t it, you big oaf?” He reached a clawed hand and pulled his ebony nails through his lover’s golden hair.

  
“Well, then, my little Jotunn,” the King whispered seductively, “I feel over dressed. Could you help me with that?”

  
The All-Father smiled, snapping his fingers, the clothing that separated himself from his husband’s warm skin, melting away. “Better?” he asked languidly.

  
“Better,” the All-Mother responded, stroking one of his Wing ridges with a gentle finger. “Turn over, Darling. Let me ease your aches.”

  
The Jotunn rolled to his side, not wanting to put pressure onto his rounded stomach, and let Thor’s large hands roll along his back, working with the lines that resided there. He sighed, feeling the muscles that he had abused all night give way to his husband’s tender ministrations. When the large hands found his lower back, he moaned, his hips shifting slightly as his muscles loosened.

  
“Am I being too rough?” Thor asked, his hands stilling, allowing the heat to sink into the skin there.

  
“No, please continue. I feel like my hips and low back have never not hurt.” He sent a rather baleful glance over his shoulder at his life-mate. “ _You_ did this to me. Put me in this state. I have six more months of this. Thanks to you. Stupid God of Fertility.”

  
“How can I make it up to you, Loki? Ask, and it shall be yours,” Thor declared, the rubbing beginning again.

  
The blue man sighed, contemplating his next statement. “Don’t stop loving me, please. Not when I look like the monstrous freak that I am, not when I’m fat and full of child, not when I’m cruel. Please, don’t stop.” His ruby eyes prickled.

  
Muscular arms wound around him, his lover’s glorious body pressed against his back, spooning him. The heat was wonderful, contrasting with his icy cool skin. “I will never stop loving you, Darling. No matter what. Why else would I have proposed to you, accepting your proposal own in return? I am wearing your ring, I have taken your mate mark and marked you as mine. This is because I love you. I always have and I always will. No matter what.” He snuggled closer to the cool, blue form that he loved so much, his bearded chin resting on his lined shoulder.

  
Loki felt himself melt into the hard, muscled body behind him. “I love you Thor, so, so much.” He sighed. “I’m sorry I’m so hormonal right now. I wasn’t like this with the twins.” The tears that had been pricking at his eyes fell, freezing along his Jotunn ridges.

  
“It’s fine, Loki. I’m glad that we’re doing this together this time. The two of us and this baby, and the twins and Aiko. We’re in this together.” He snuggled in closer. “The perfect family.”  
___________________________________________

  
The early morning light caught the two lovers entwined, the blonde cradling the rounding form of the horned man on their scarlet and silver couch. The light woke the slimmer man, his bladder waking with him. He slowly eased himself out of his husband’s arms and made his way to the restroom, relieving himself as the baby rested on the organ. “Oh, little one,” he muttered, a hand stroking his rounded abdomen. “Do you really want to lay there? It can’t be comfortable for either of us.”

  
A strange, but familiar fluttering sensation responded to his voice. He bit his lower lip, blinking back the tears that were suddenly in his eyes. He rested a slim hand over the bump. “Hello Baby,” he whispered, his gruff voice hoarse with emotion and the early morning. “It’s me...It’s MMmmm.” He paused, unsure of what his title would be with this child - a true child of his body and blood. He swallowed. “It’s Mummy.”

  
“I like hearing you say that.” Loki spun around, his hair, lose and tangled flying through the air like an ebony curtain. He had a soft, confused look in his eyes, his mouth open slightly. Thor smiled warmly. “I like it when you call yourself Mummy.”

  
The king strode to him, covering the ground between them in two steps. He knelt before him, his lips coming to rest on his blue orb of a stomach. “Good morning, Little One,” he murmured, pressing his hot lips to the cool abdomen. “Are you treating your Mummy alright? Hmmm. Are you being a good little angel?” He looked up at the ruby eyes that stared down at him with such intense longing. “How are you this morning, Loki?” He murmured, rising to capture his thin lips in his own fuller pair.

  
“I am well,” he whispered against the pink lips of his husband. “And how are you, my life-mate?”

  
“Well,” his lover smiled, “I slept wonderfully, but was very saddened to wake up without the most beautiful man in the Nine beside me.”

  
He wound his thinly muscled arms around the other man’s solid body, his rough, calloused palms reaching down to cup the tanned butt of the king. “And,” he asked coyly, “what can I do to make it up to you?”

  
“Well, if you put it that way...”

  
A couple of hours later, fully sated and very much in love with the man that he had claimed as his own, the Jotunn stepped from his icy shower and slipped on his normal garb, hiking the loincloth in place before winding the soft wool of the band around his bosom. He had an appointment with Bruce and then Thor claimed that he had a surprise for him. The promise of a surprise peaked his interest. All he knew was that he’d follow his husband, his perfect other half, anywhere.

  
As he exited the bathroom, he called to his husband, who was preparing for a meeting with SHIELD. “I’m on my way to visit Bruce. I hope you have a good meeting. I love you!”

  
The deep, boom of his life-mate’s voice echoing through the apartment. “Get pictures if you can! I love you too and I will see you this afternoon!” 

Loki beamed, the baby fluttering around within him as his excitement became known to the little being. The elevator rushed him to the medical floor and to his appointment. The Jotunn truly appreciated everything that the scientist had done for him and really enjoyed the time with the man. He understood what it was to be different, really, truly different. It was their uniqueness that had brought them together and it was what made them stand apart. The ultrasound machine was wheeled out at the end of the appointment again, much to Loki’s delight. While his seidr could tell him that the child within him was progressing, as could Thor with his talents as All-Mother, there was something amazing about the Midgardian technology that captured the image of the baby as it grew and developed. It was his way of including the rest of his family in his pregnancy. The twins, in particular, would be thrilled with the new images.

  
When he arrived back at the apartment, his life-mate was waiting for him, dressed in Midgardian casual, a bundle of clothes in his arms. “What is this?” the Jotunn asked, curious.

  
“This, my little Jotunn, is your surprise. You may wish to put these on. We’re going outside.” The bundle revealed themselves to be a tunic and trousers.

  
“Outside? Really? Isn’t it a bit warm?” he asked, taking the clothing and throwing it on anyway.

  
“It’s not too hot,” the blonde said, smiling, “Though I would not actually know. You don’t have to put them on if you think that you’ll be too warm.”

 

“It’s fine, Thor,” he smiled, patting his lover’s bulging bicep. “They’re already on. So, what are we doing?”

  
Thor took his hand, winding his thick, tanned fingers through his blue, ridged ones. “Let’s go,” he said cheerfully, pulling his life-mate behind him excitedly. Loki found himself in the elevator, the metal box descending lower than he had ever gone before. His husband held him close, his heat cutting through the thin cotton of the tunic and the linen of the trousers. His lips traced the ridges on his face and exposed neck, his hand pulling gently on the ebony braid as the Jotunn’s claws pulled through the tangles in the king’s golden hair.

  
The elevator dinged, depositing them in the lobby of the Tower. “Thor,” the blue man whispered, his hands gripping onto the other man’s right arm tighter. “What are we doing here?”

  
“We, my Love, are going out.” The All-Mother said, capturing the thin, blue lips of his life-mate. “I have the world’s most handsome being in my bed-”

  
“Last I checked, it was _my_ bed,” the blue man interjected, still gripping to the Thunderer’s arm as his claws clicked across the linoleum, drawing stares from the SHIELD agents that they passed on their way to the main doors.

  
“Fine,” the blonde chuckled. “I have the most handsome man in all the Nine in _his_ bed, and now I would like to show him off on my arm.”

  
The main doors swung open and the blue man’s feet touched asphalt for the first time. “Oh!” Loki gasped, the heat sinking into his callouses. The sun was blinding, reflecting off the glass of the surrounding buildings, causing him to blink, waiting for his eyes to adjust. “This is new.”

  
“Is it an okay, new or an ‘I want to go back inside’ new?” the King of Asgard asked, squeezing one of his lover’s Clawed hands.

  
“It’s an okay new, you big oaf,” the horned man chuckled. “I just need time to adjust to the temperature.” He released one of his hands from his life-mate’s bicep and slid the other down the tanned expanse to grasp the larger man’s hand. “Are we just going to stand outside of Stark’s building or are we going someplace else?”

  
“Come along, Loki, and you shall see.” The All-Father was caught up in his lover’s laughter as he talked about anything and everything. The city, filled with people who gaped and gawked, seemed to fall away from the couple. The horned man, blue, ridged and pregnant, did not even care that he was being stared at. For the first time in his reborn life, he felt that he was being courted. The ‘little Jotunn’ who was pregnant and horned was out on a date with his perfect man.

  
Thor took him to Central Park, his horned feet enjoying the feeling of grass and gravel beneath his hooked toes. They strolled along the carriage path, played a rather ridiculous game of tag among the shade of the trees, and, much to a flock of ducks’ dismay, waded in a shallow stream, the ice that he generated drifting down the water. It was as if it represented his past, gone in the blink of an eye.

 


	36. Chapter 36

  
**Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
The couple spent the rest of their afternoon traversing the main avenues of the city. Thor got them both something called ice cream, and Loki instantly fell in love with the sweet chocolate taste and the cool substance. It filled his entire being with happiness, and the little one flipped about within him, expressing his love for the dessert. The blue man also loved the way it coated his husband’s lips and the inside of his mouth.

  
When they returned to the Tower, they retreated to their living room. Loki quickly stripped off the restricting and frosty outer layer of clothing, glad that he could feel the cool air of the apartment in his overly warm body. He scraped the frost from his limbs, Thor helping him with his back, and then pulled the larger man down onto the couch, snuggling into his side.

  
Steve found them, hours later, on the same couch. The door had been ajar, and so the soldier had simply knocked and walked in. The All-Father was reading aloud from a book, a Midgardian novel about a boy wizard that he had borrowed from Tony’s library, while Thor rubbed his feet, tracing the high arches with his thumbs, relieving the stress that the appendages had been under in the last twenty-four hours.

  
“Hello,” he said with a small wave of his hand. “Sorry if I’m interrupting something.”

  
The blue man set down his book as the couple turned to face the Captain. “No, no,” the All-Father said, “It’s a pleasure to see you, Steve. Come in.”

  
The man smiled and entered further. “Would you like a seat?” Thor asked, gesturing to the chairs around them.

  
“Oh, I can’t stay,” the super soldier said, looking rather sheepish. “I just came to tell you to turn on your TV. You’re going to want to see this.”

  
“Jarvis,” the King called, “You heard the man, please turn on the moving picture box.”

  
_Of course, Mr. Odinson. The black screen flickered to life. I have taken the liberty to put it onto the channel that I am sure Captain Rogers wants you to see._

  
“Thank you, Jarvis,” Loki said, his brow furrowing at the images.

  
The blonde woman from the previous evening was on the screen. She appeared to be on a normal news cast, which was strange because her magazine was not one that discussed the news. The main anchor, a dark haired young man, asked, _You claim that you spoke with the new Queen of Asgard. What have you to say about the woman and do you think that she knows about the rather strange alien that her husband was seen with today?_ An image of him from the previous evening, his waist tucked into Thor’s arm, flashed on the screen along side a grainier photograph of the two of them laughing at the stream in Central Park.

  
The blond spoke, looking rather smug. _I believe that the Queen is a rather interesting woman. I’m not entirely sure that I would want her running a country. Honestly, I’m not sure that it’s even legal._

  
_I’m not following you, Ms. Banks,_ the other reporter said, a confused brow furrow creasing his young face.

  
_What I’m saying, Robert, is that I believe that the gorgeous woman and the blue, horned man are the same thing. They are the same alien._

  
_Could you confirm that with any evidence?_

  
_I know that the woman from last evening ate raw meat at the gala. It was all the wait staff could talk about. No normal person, or even a normal Asgardian, eats meat raw. The two aliens are both named Loki, the name uttered multiple times to both by Thor himself. It should be noted that it coincides with another resident of Asgard - the one who suddenly became ‘good’ six or seven years ago. Not only do I think that the two ‘people’ with Thor are the same person, I think that they are two different forms of Loki, the Scourge of New York._

  
_Those are mighty high accusations, Ms. Banks_ , the man protested. _You are claiming that the King of Asgard, one of the founding Avengers, is gay and is in an incestuous, married relationship with a reformed supervillain. All of this is rather spectacular, don’t you agree?_

  
“Turn it off,” Loki said, petrified. “For the Norn’s sakes, turn it off!” He leapt from the couch and out of the room, slamming the door to his now empty bedroom shut behind him.

  
He was bawling like a child that had fallen off his horse for the first time, and he knew that it was irrational, but he couldn’t help it. The stupid woman had tricked him, collected information on him, and had now sold him out to the media. He was stupid, a complete idiot, and now his beloved husband would pay the price of his existence.

  
A gentle knock sounded on the door. “Loki?” His husband’s voice was soft, hesitant. “Can we talk about this?”

  
“NO!” he roared. “LEAVE ME, THOR. JUST...Just leave me!” He curled around his stomach, stroking it as he cried.

  
The door opened. “Thor,” he moaned, “leave me alone.”

  
“No.” The usually loud, booming voice was soft. “I made you a promise, Loki. I promised to love you through the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, all the days of our lives until the coming of Ragnarok and I plan to do just that. I promised to love and cherish you the rest of my days, and I will, no matter what anyone else tells me to do. I made you a promise and I will uphold that promise forever.”

  
He flipped his hair that had tumbled from his braid out of his eyes. “Really?”

  
Thor sat beside him, easing himself down onto the floor. “Of course, Loki. I am ready to stand by you as you! Can’t you see that? I am proud to have you as my husband and I want to announce it to Midgard. They are, after all, the last to know.”

 

“What about your reputation? It’s already been ruined on seven of the other eight!”

  
“Come now, Loki,” Thor chuckled, “It’s only been totally ruined on six. Asgard has to like it, I happen to rule it.”

  
The Jotunn smiled, raising a hand to run his fingers and claws lightly over his husband’s soft beard. “I suppose you are right.” He paused, his ruby eyes flicking up to meet the infinite blue orbs of the All-Mother. “What are we going to do about this?”

  
“We are going to go out to dinner, as I planned, as husband and husband. You are going to order anything that you want, and we are going to enjoy the rest of tonight, because we have to return to ruling the Realms in the morning. We are not going to care about the reporters, in fact, we are going to ignore them completely if they show up. How does that sound?”

 

He smiled, matching the grin that Thor gave him, despite his sniffling. “Wonderful. Really and truly.”

  
“Great!” Thor boomed, clapping him heartily on the shoulder, “Let’s get going, then.”

 

“Now?” he asked, his eyes going wide. “My hair is a wreck.”

  
Thor pulled him to his feet. “Then go fix it. Unfortunately, with reservations, we have to be on-time.” Loki gave him a small shove, rolling his eyes as his hands flew to his loosened braid.

  
The pair found themselves in an upscale restaurant in the middle of Manhattan. They had made it inside without gathering the attention of any reporters of photographers, making the Jotunn glad that he knew Tony Stark. The instant the doors opened, he felt incredibly underdressed. Thor had not given him time to change, or time to even throw on the clothes he was wearing before. Instead, he was sitting on a velvety chair, the back and the bottom worrying his exposed ridges, in a plain black breast band and an unadorned loincloth. He was certain that he would not have been allowed in except that he was with Thor, who was dressed in his finest, and he happened to be the topic of the latest gossip.

  
Thor was his usual, charming self, talking to the waiter and giving the good-looking young man a winning smile. The man did not second guess any aspects of his order, bringing him a raw chicken, unseasoned, surrounded by uncooked potatoes, carrots, turnips, and radishes. His hunger back in full force, he consumed the entire contents of the plate. The waiter only raised a single eye brow at the lack of bones on the plate, and made no comment. The couple had chocolate ice cream for dessert.

  
The reporters that had found them after the meal, however, were incredibly vocal. As they exited the restaurant, Thor protectively wrapped his arms around his smaller body, his hands covering the noticeable bump that presided between the blue figure’s hips.

  
THOR! THOR! WHO IS THIS?

  
ARE YOU CHEATING ON YOUR WIFE?

  
IS THIS YOUR WIFE?

 

THOR! IS THIS YOUR BROTHER?

  
DO YOU WANT TO COMMENT OF THE STATEMENTS MADE EARLIER?

  
Loki shook his horns back and forth, his eyes wide. He grabbed onto his husband’s arms, not willing to let go of their protection as well as attempting to restrain himself from acting out and unleashing his seidr on the bothersome reporters.

  
After much pushing and shoving, the couple finally reached the door to their car, the driver opening the door for them, to let them in. The reporters continued to pester them, shouting and harassing them to no end. Thor ushered him into the car and then turned around.

  
“You want a statement? Here is my statement: This beautiful creature in this car is my wife as well as husband. He is Jotunn, the race found on Jotunnheim. We were raised together, my parents treating him as a son and I thought of him as a brother. However, as time passed, we fell in love. We are very happy and are expecting our first child together in December. Thank you.”

  
He slid into the limo, the driver slamming the door behind him, cutting off the continued questions and incessant flashbulbs. “Well,” Loki said, “That’s certainly going to give them a lot to talk about.”

  
His husband, the delightful oaf that he was, just smiled. “And now, all Nine knows that I am the luckiest man that dwells within Yggdrasil.”

  
“Whatever you say, Darling,” the Jotunn patted the other man’s knee affectionately. Needlessly to say, he was glad that this was their last evening on Midgard for a while.   
_______________________________________________

  
**Heimdall’s Observatory - Asgard**

  
The next morning the Jotunn was not sad to see the rainbow colors of the Bifrost as he was whisked away to the land of Asgard and his family. The media was having an absolute field day with his husband’s statement, throwing about speculation, comparing ‘before’ and ‘after’ pictures of him, focusing on the ‘we’re expecting’ portion of Thor’s speech. Either way, as much as he enjoyed his time out among the Midgardian public, he was not planning on taking another jaunt outside anytime soon.

  
“Daddy! Blue!” The sound of the cacophony of family life flooded his sensitive ears. His fangs flashed into his widest, most joyful smile, willing the swirl of color to vanish from his sight so that he could see the people who went with the voices. The people that he had missed so much during his time with the Avengers.

  
The golden light of Heimdall’s observatory pierced his ruby gaze and the Asgardians in the space flew into focus. Frigga was standing, her hands on the shoulders of her youngest grandchildren, Aiko kneeling beside them. As his horned feet connected with the smooth, gold surface of the round building, his nails scraped along the rings that were etched into the floor. He instantly knelt and opened his arms to the little ones. Thor copied his motions, taking the twins and his life-mate into his strong arms. Aiko whipped her camera out, snapping pictures of the reunion.

  
“Aiko,” Loki called, gesturing to her with one of his hands, “Come now, my Child of Love. I have missed you. Join us!” She smiled knowingly, rolling her eyes like the teenager that she was, and put the camera into the large pocket of her dress. She sauntered over, taking her sweet time as she smiled coyly at her father, playing with his patience as only she could. Finally, having taken the long way around, she joined the group hug, laying herself gently over her father’s blue back and side, rubbing the Jotunn ridges of his Mantle and Wings, a motion she knew he loved. His purr sprung from his chest and he nuzzled Daryn, the closest twin, and placed a large kiss on her cheek, before swiveling his horned head to repeat the action with Torsten.

  
“How have you been, my Darlings?” he asked over the rumbling in his chest. “Behaving yourselves for Aiko and Grandmother?”

  
“Of course, Blue,” the little blonde said, beaming proudly. “We _always_ listen.”

  
“Not too well, I hope,” his husband said, squeezing his little family tighter. “Mischief is alright every now and again.”

  
“Well...” the little boy recalled, “Daryn and Fafnir and I did play ball inside.” He paused. “But it _was_ raining and we didn’t break anything _too_ valuable.”

  
“What did you break?” the King asked, suddenly serious.

  
“Um...nothing,” Daryn mumbled, looking at her toes.

  
“Daryn.” Thor was incredibly serious now, his eyes leeched of their blue color and turned to a hard slate grey. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.

  
Tory was the one who folded first under the harsh gaze as his twin buried her head into his cold, blue shoulder, hidden behind her elder sibling’s curtain of chocolate brown hair. “Daddy,” the heir mumbled, “we braked the really old vase that grandfather got grandmother for their wedding.”

  
“The one made of Muspelheim volcanic ore, in laid with Vanaheim jewels, and carved by the Dwarves of Nifleheim?” Loki asked, the rumbling purr stopping in his chest cavity. His head quirked to the side as his claws traced patterns on his stepdaughter’s back, the tips getting caught on the cloth. The blonde head resting on his shoulder nodded.

  
“Oh, Darling,” the Jotunn chuckled, kissing a soft kiss on the top of her head, “That one was a fake!”

  
“WHAT!?” Frigga shouted, her hands flying to cover her mouth. “It-it can’t be fake...it’s the symbol of our fidelity...our love...”

  
“Mother,” the Jotunn said softly, his ruby eyes soft as they met her upset grey ones. “I wasn’t going to let a valuable heirloom sit out in the open with children and a dog running about.” He smiled kindly. “It’s in Odin’s Vault.”

  
“Oh, Loki,” the Queen mother sighed, kneeling and wrapping herself around the outside of their family bundle. “Thank you.” He smiled kindly, his purr starting again, this time softer and sweeter in response. “Torsten and Daryn.” The twins turned around to look at their grandmother. “I am so sorry for yelling at you. I shouldn’t have gotten upset about something material anyway. _Nothing_ is more precious than family. For that, I am dearly sorry.”

  
“It’s okay Grandma,” Tory said, wrapping his little arms around her neck.

  
“We love you,” the little princess whispered, joining her twin on her grandmother’s neck. The older woman wrapped her strong arms around the little ones, kissing them on each cheek and they kissed her back. Everything forgiven.

  
With a soft moan, the Jotunn rose, his back aching. His husband stood as well, resting his large, hot hand on the small of his back. Aiko followed him up, her arms firmly wrapped around his expanding middle. “Someone’s getting bigger,” she murmured, giving him a strong squeeze.

  
“Yes, yes,” he said, “Let’s make fun of the fat pregnant Jotunn.” Thor kissed his cheek tenderly before resting his forehead against his temple.

  
“Stop it, Blue,” Aiko said, tilting her head up to look him in the eye. “I wasn’t talking about you! I was talking about the little one that happens to be growing _inside_ you.”

  
“It’s still less than a pound, I think.” He frowned. “This,” he placed a slim hand on his abdomen, “Is certainly more than a pound.”

  
“It’s perfect. You’re perfect,” Thor said, his large hand covering his lover’s ridged blue one.

  
“I know,” the God of Mischief kidded, knocking his horns gently against his husband’s thick skull.

  
His daughter’s arms loosened around his ribs. “Ok, I’ll just let you two find your way to your rooms.”

  
“Aiko!” Loki called as she started to walk away, joining her grandmother and her younger siblings. She turned to look over her shoulder, playfully sending him a wink.

  
“I’m glad you’re back, Blue!”

 


	37. Chapter 37

  
**Asgard**

  
The summer flew by for the couple. Their duties consumed most of their days with meetings and hearings as well as a couple of short diplomatic trips. The frustration of the everyday squabbles, small mutterings of disgust, and the utterly boring and drawn out discussions consumed their everyday. While Thor ruled Asgard with a firm, yet wise hand, it surprised Loki that he took quickly to his position as All-Mother, spending time among expectant mothers, young children, and engaged couples. He spent an afternoon with each group once a week, and always returned filled with stories, a wide smile on his face, knowing that he had made a difference, helped improve someone else’s life. Loki joined him sometimes, his hand resting on his growing stomach as his husband’s hands bestowed little sparks of pink seidr on those he came in contact with and listened to his kind conversations with his people.

  
The Jotunn spent more of his time alone, reading and researching, scrying the far-reaches of the Nine for signs of distress or trouble that local governing bodies couldn’t handle on their own. It prepared him to act if necessary, but, with the imprisonment of Sif, most threats were small and not overly malicious. There was still a fair amount of grumbling about his position as All-Father and ‘Queen’ of Asgard, but, thankfully nothing was escalating because of it.

  
He joined his husband during Council meetings and anything that Thor wanted him present for. As he grew, he noticed that the Thunderer became a bit more possessive, asking for his presence at more and more matters of Asgardian business along with the gatherings of the Council of the Nine. Since he had begun to show, there was no denying that he was, indeed, in a relationship with the King of Asgard, and, as such, deserved at least some form of respect. It was a different feeling - being included and not simply ignored. He appreciated it and he felt that he was finally becoming a citizen of his home again.

  
His visits with Sif continued daily and he found that the Jotunn was getting used to her new state of blue, armored cold. She no longer shouted at him, blamed him for her punishment. Instead she would sit on her cot, munching away on the treats that the pregnant man brought her and listened to the tales he told. Sometimes he would regale her with stories of Jotunnheim and it’s awesome icy vastness, other times he would catch her up on the adventures of her old companions, Thor and the Warriors Three. Sometimes he brought pictures, images captured with Aiko’s camera, revealing the passage of time: the twin’s rapid growth into smaller versions of Thor and himself, the visits that Ren paid Aiko, the Warriors Three galavanting through the Nine, and the odd image of the royal family as a unit, whole and happy. Thor came to visit with him twice a week or so, always happy to see his shield sister. It was only after his time in the cell that he would grow quiet and contemplative, wondering what his husband’s final aim of the punishment was. The once-Aesir couldn’t stay in the dungeons forever, she would soon go mad with boredom and inactivity.

  
As the larger Jotunn entered her third month of imprisonment, she was struck with her first Heat. It was odd, Loki had to admit, to see what it looked like from the outside. When he arrived in the dungeons, he had noticed a faint smell, sweet and sharp, cutting through even the dingiest musk. His nose became overwhelmed with it as he traveled further into the darkness before stopping in front of the newest Jotunn. Her dark blue skin was an even deeper navy as if it she were flushed. It made her ridges, hidden behind that armor that neither she nor Loki had learned how to retract, stand out in sharp contrast. Her eyes were wide and shining, sparkling in the glow of the wall sconces. She was exceedingly attractive, the pinnacle of health, perfect, as a small part of his mind reminded him, for breeding. The thought was strange and unwelcome, especially knowing that he was mated. If he found himself drawn to the woman in her need, he was loathe to think who else was.

  
“Sif?” he asked, walking through the screen. Her answer was a low, guttural moan. “Oh, Norns, Sif!” He whispered the statement, almost to himself, though he knew exactly what she was going through. Judging by her still relatively coherent thought stream, she had only just started the actual heat of it, the bleeding subsiding about an hour or two ago.

  
“Hot,” she rasped, her voice even more gravelly. “It’s too hot.” Her claws scratched up and down her arms furiously as she whimpered.

  
The All-Father was rummaging through his seidr-based dimensional pocket, knowing that he had a Macagelan root in there somewhere. “I know, Sif. I understand,” he murmured, trying to be comforting but knowing that she probably wasn’t really hearing his words. “I’m going to help you.”

  
“Then _take me_ ,” she moaned, rutting a bit on the bed, her thighs still coated in the deep midnight blue that had passed out of her hours ago. Her hands shifted lower down her body, making the All-Father thankful that she had yet to remove the sheet around her waist.

  
“No, no,” Loki said firmly. “You don’t want me. We hate each other, Sif. You’ve tried to kill me and I cast spells on you, remember?” His searching became more desperate. It had to be in there somewhere. “Besides, I’m already mated. Thor would not be pleased.”

  
“I’ll take him too!” She shouted, writhing on her tangled sheets. “What the point of having two parts if you can’t use them?” Her eyes fixed on the smaller, rounded Jotunn. He was seven months along but was still relatively small, the bump presenting like a five month Aesir pregnancy. She could still take him, as was his want, apparently. “Not that _you_ would know.”

  
“I am not discussing my sex life with you, Sif,” he retorted. “It is none of your business.”

  
The larger Jotunn moaned again, rolling about on her bed, the sheet slipping as her hands worked, any sense of propriety gone. Loki ducked his head, giving Sif the privacy that he knew she would be grateful she had had when this was all over. Finally, in what seemed like an eternity, his hand closed around the Macagelan root. Pulling it out, he strode purposefully towards the cot, trying not to notice how the warrior’s hands shifted, no longer grasping herself but instead reaching for him. As a large hand latched onto his arm, he threw some seidr up into her face, knocking her out momentarily. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get the Jotunn to unhand him and to allow him to drop the root into her mouth. As Sif regained consciousness, he snapped her jaws shut, whispering “Chew and swallow, Sif. Chew and swallow.”

  
The larger blue being obeyed, her eyes rolling back into her bristly head. Almost instantly, the tension seemed to ease from her limbs. The flushed color lessened, but didn’t go away. The intensely sweet smell dissipated. She would be more comfortable. With a small smile, the All-Father left the Jotunn, vowing to check on her again the following day, when she would inevitably be irritable but not attempting to use him.

  
Sif would be leaving for Jotunnheim soon. She had gotten used to her longer limbs and her new diet. While he had refused to teach her how to wield her powers over ice, he knew that Elksa would. As head of the standing army, his brother-in-law would welcome the warrior woman into his troops. Her reputation would precede her. Elksa would want Sif before Jotunnheim closed for it’s winter hibernation.   
_________________________________________________

  
His appointments with Bruce on Midgard became a highlight for the family. The twins began coming now that Freddie was out of school. They were happy to see their friend and to have another child that was close to their age to play Avenger’s with. The red headed boy really liked the improved Loki action figure and insisted that he received one of his own, which the Jotunn happily provided. Thor was glad to spend some time catching some villains with the Avengers, something that his tasks on Asgard kept him from of late. He especially enjoyed the hero’s welcome that his husband gave him in bed following those adventures. Loki was glad to spend sometime with Bruce and Asha without the added stress of impending birth or crazy mobs asking for his head.

  
The royal family also spent some time together as a unit, away from the bustle and the pull on both parents, in early August. They ventured to Midgard for a strange trip to a secluded beach in the Pacific. The twins enjoyed it, their first trip to Midgard outside of Avenger’s Tower, and its stretches of white, sandy beaches and pure, crystalline blue water that was the same temperature as the air. Unless, of course, their blue bearer rounded with child, decided to go into the water. Then the temperature around him dropped about ten degrees, much to everyone’s delight. Except for the fish, who avoided the horned being like the plague.

  
Despite the heat, Loki had enjoyed his day away from it all. He lay on the beach, a patch of ice spread out below him like a blanket, a hand pressed against his slightly pointed stomach, his belly button the slightly depressed point at the top. The baby was wriggling nearly constantly, his roomy womb giving it plenty of space to tumble about. Recently, Thor and the twins could feel the baby as it moved about, fascinated that his stomach was holding a little being and that, through his thin, purple veined skin, they could touch their younger sibling’s hand or foot. Sometimes both, if the baby was taking after Torsten and it’s father, enjoying spread eagle position.

  
Thor sighed, coming to sit beside his husband and laying a large, warm hand on his. “Hello Handsome Fellow,” he said, beaming brighter than the sun they reclined under. “You haven’t happened to see the most stunning man in the Nine, have you? I have been looking for him all day. He’s just shy of seven feet tall, thanks to the most beautiful set of horns you have ever seen, slate grey and very regal. His skin is a gorgeous cerulean and it is covered with thin silver patterns, like the traces of frost that form on new ice. His hair is ebony and is always done up in this braid that looks really bad ass, especially with his claws that match and his sparkling ruby eyes. He’s also round with child - my child, and it has turned him into the most stunning being in all the Nine. Have you seen him?”

  
Loki rolled his eyes, rolling his head to the side, laying it on his bent arm to keep his horns from putting pressure on his forehead. “And if I may have seen this man, do I receive a reward of some kind?” He chuckled, watching his husband’s tanned skin flush.

  
“Well, kind sir,” the king murmured, rolling onto his side to face his life-mate, “I would offer you all the wealth in the treasury of Asgard for such information.” He leaned in for a kiss, which the Jotunn denied him coyly, a cool finger pressed to his lips, the claw buried in the blonde beard beneath his nose.

  
“What if I have access to that wealth and more already?” he smirked, quirking an eyebrow. “What if I request something else? Would you, the Mighty Thor, King of Asgard, give it to me?”

 

Thor leaned in closer. “How could I deny you in my search for the perfect mate?”

  
Loki’s fangs flashed in the sun as he smiled broadly. “Fine. I shall only aid you if you kiss me.”

  
The king feigned disbelief and looked insulted. “Such a base desire! How could I do that to my stunning man of blue?”

  
“Those are my conditions. You either meet them or my information shall go with me to the gr-”

  
His dialogue was immediately cut off by a pair of hungry pink lips covering his thin blue ones with such desperation and longing that he was overwhelmed. His arms, still lean and strong despite the added padding to his stomach, wrapped around the other man, molding their bodies together. He rolled the two of them over, laying on top of the blonde as his tongue plunged into the hot depths of Thor’s mouth. He loved the way that his husband’s seemingly solid body was able to wrap around his pregnant shape, comforting him in his vulnerable state.

  
Releasing his husband’s tongue, the blue man ran his nose through the soft, golden hair on the other man’s face, inhaling his strong ozone scent. He sighed, enjoying the sensation before propping himself up, off of Thor and his bump. Looking at his husband, he smirked. “So...that man you were looking for,” he said quietly.

  
“Hmmm?” the Thunderer whispered, kissing the cool tip of his lover’s nose.

  
Loki’s smile grew wider, his fangs on full display. “He left for Jotunnheim about an hour ago. I’m _terribly_ sorry that you missed him.”

  
Thor laughed raucously and pulled his husband closer, allowing the other man to nuzzle into the crook of his neck with a cold sigh. He was sure that the blue man was highly uncomfortable, his natural body heat compounded by the brightness of the sun, but the natural frost that his life-mate produced helped to keep him cozy and cool. “Well,” the King of Asgard murmured, “I think I’m happier with this one that I have conveniently in my arms.”

  
“Hmmm,” the Jotunn sighed contentedly, his ruby orbs closing and his breath deepening and slowing to a soft, comforting purr as he drifted off to sleep. Thor wrapped his arms tighter around the sleeping man, allowing his life-mate to catch up on the sleep that he was missing due to the added pressure of the baby on his bladder.


	38. Chapter 38

  
**Utgard, Jotunnheim**

  
“Loki-Brother!” Helblindi exclaimed, throwing his arms wide, despite the rather large Jotunn toddler hanging off of one of them. “It is a pleasure to see you again so soon.”

  
The shorter Jotunn gave the King of Jotunnheim a small bow and a large smile. “I am glad to have been able to make the trip before hibernation begins.”

  
“Shall we go somewhere more private? I know that Elksa would love to see you. I’ll send for him.” The All-Father followed the larger being, huffing a bit from the half a cantaloupe attached to his stomach. When they reached the small, private parlor of the royal couple, the pregnant man did not wait to be asked to sit down. His back was aching, his bladder was being used as a punching bag, and he felt incredibly out of shape. And he had four more months of this.

  
He sighed, glad to relieve some of the pressure. It was incredibly short-lived. The sound of a whimpering infant reached his ears and he stood, a hand placed under his stomach. “Elksa-Brother,” he said softly, not wanting to upset the already unhappy baby.

  
“He’s teething, poor thing” the broad, Jotunn general explained as his youngest whined around the bone that he was suckling.

  
“I’m terribly sorry,” the All-Father sympathized, recalling the time when the twins cut their first teeth as well as his own painful transition from flat to fanged. “I promise that I won’t keep you long.”

  
His half-brother, his heir on his hip, gestured to the shorter chair. “Have a seat, please, Loki-All-Father,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. The king’s blood red eyes flicked down to his rounded stomach, emphasized by his sitting position. “How much longer?”

  
“Four months,” his older sibling sighed, rubbing his slim hand over his rounded abdomen. Inhaling slowly, he raised his gaze and focused on his brother-in-law. “I actually have a favor to ask of you, Elksa-General.”

  
“Oh,” the consort of the king stated, “A title, All-Father. You must really need something.”

  
Loki smirked. “It’s not for me. Well, not really. Do you remember our conversation about the Lady Sif?”

  
“The woman that had organized all of the horrendous acts against you and the Nine? The one that was a sworn companion of your life-mate?” Helblindi was jostling Aksel on his knee, the little boy laughing sporadically.

  
“Yes, well...I may have transfigured her.” He ducked his head, looking up sheepishly at the royal couple. They cocked their eyebrow muscles simultaneously. He bit his lower lip and continued. “Into a Jotunn.”

  
“You revealed our secret to her.” It was a statement. Helblindi’s knee stopped jiggling and his face fell blank. Elksa’s sharp eyes pierced into him, calculating.

  
“Yes, I did. It was either that, or have her executed.” Loki ran a hand over one of his horns nervously. “I couldn’t do that. Not after what Odin gave me. Her actions were against me, and me alone. Everything else was collateral. She didn’t deserve to be killed on my account. Not when I have more blood on my hands than she has on hers. And so I decided that she would become the thing she feared most and, if she accepted it, she would be given another chance.”

  
“How long has she been Jotunn?” Elksa asked, rubbing the ridges on his newborn’s back.

  
“Four months,” the All-Father replied. “She has grown into her limbs and new intersexuality. She’s already had a Heat. She has been a very interested pupil in the history of our people. I think that she needs to get out of her cell and among our people, make her transition final.” He paused, giving her brother-in-law a hopeful smile. “She would be a wonderful addition to your standing army. I mean, her reputation precedes her. Of course, letting our people know that she is who she was would not be a good idea.”

  
The couple turned to look at each other, a silent conversation playing through their expressions. Loki sat nervously, running one hand over his horn while the other sat on a tiny foot that was poking out of his stomach. Finally, the two Jotunn opposite him faced him again.

  
“Bring her tomorrow,” Helblindi decreed. “We’ll make our evaluations of her then, just to be sure. She is a know Jotunn-killer and we can’t be too cautious.”

  
Loki stood, hissing slightly as the baby shifted and kicked him in his spleen. “I accept your wise ruling, Heblindi-King, Elksa-King.” He bowed his horns slightly. “I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”  
_____________________________________________

  
**The Deepest, Darkest Cell, the Dungeons, the Palace - Asgard**

  
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” the larger Jotunn scowled, her fangs bared at the smaller men. “Do you _want_ to see me killed?”

  
“Well, that _certainly_ didn’t stop you from trying to _kill me - **four times!**_ ” the true-born Jotunn roared, his fangs flashing dangerously.

  
Thor placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, instantly calming him. Closing his eyes with a heavy huff, Loki refocused his eyes on Sif. “Look Sif,” he said quietly. “No one in Jotunnheim outside of the ruling family will know your true identity. Helblindi and Elksa will not betray you to their citizens. In fact, I believe that Elksa is hoping that you could help him with their standing army. Your reputation, Lady Sif, precedes you.” He hoped that his little lie about the Jotunn general wanting her help would hold up in the end. “Besides,” he continued, “You can’t stay here. I know what solitary does to people. You’re too valuable to waste away, slowly going crazy from lack of seeing any face besides the one you loath for an hour everyday for the rest of you long life.”

  
Thor placed a warm hand on his shoulder, looking at Sif sadly. “Sif, please,” he whispered. “Go to Jotunnheim. Have a life, if not for you, then for me. For the Warriors Three.” He took his free hand and placed it on his oldest friend’s arm, worrying the ridges around her armor plating. “You could bring so much to Jotunnheim. Helblindi and Elksa will see that.”

  
He smiled, pulling Loki closer into his heated side. “Besides, you could find your life-mate. Understand what we have, why I couldn’t love you the way that you love me. And I do love you, Sif. You’re my oldest friend, my shield sister, and I just want you to be happy. And you won’t find it in this cell. But you might find it in Jotunnheim.”

  
The taller Jotunn scowled but stood, arms extended in front of her. “Lead on, All-Father,” she sighed, her deep voice, raw with emotion. She gulped visibly, causing the Thunderer to keep rubbing the ridges on her lower arm and on the back of her hand. She grasped his much smaller hand in her rough, calloused palms, a frozen tear teetering on her lower lid. “Thank you,” she murmured, her ruby eyes locked onto her suddenly shorter friend.

  
“I need to put these on you,” the horned man said apologetically wary, a pair of heavy, Jotunn-sized cuffs suddenly appearing in his slender hands. She nodded, understanding, feeling the cool metal lock itself onto her wrists with a solid click. “They’ll come off at the Bifrost.”

  
She nodded again, allowing her large and slightly unwieldy body to be led from the cell that she had spent the last four months of her life. As the screen closed behind her, she inhaled deeply, the free air filling her expansive lungs. Loki looked behind him, the large Jotunn’s hands still grasping his husband’s, making the tall man look positively tiny, a small smile playing at her lips. He exhaled slowly, a hand resting on a protruding foot, nestled into his right hip, hoping that he was doing the right thing.

  
The transition was taking place in the early hours of the morning, the sun hovering just above the horizon as the stars still sparkled in the midnight blue of the dawn. The time between dark and light was the All-Father’s favorite time of day, a reminder of his own journey from his Fall to now. The lingering starlight and the faint light of the blazing sun lit the way through the sleeping halls and the slumbering streets, the only sound coming from the thud of heavy boots and the click of two sets of hooked claws contacting the cobblestones.

  
The Bifrost stretched before them, a faint hum of conversation lighting onto his ears. He rubbed his abdomen, the babe sleeping within him, rocked by his even gait. He was not sure what the pair behind him was talking about, but the long walk down the Rainbow Bridge might be exactly what they needed. He hummed softly to himself and the babe, rubbing the roundness he bore. The perfect combination of himself and his perfect husband.

  
The soft, golden light of Heimdall’s observatory greeted them in the light of the new morn. “Hello All-Father, my King,” the deep voice of the Watcher intoned. His startling metallic orbs lighted on the taller Jotunn. “Sister.”

  
A gasping sob echoed around the rounded structure. The horned man turned and slowly unlocked the heavy manacles, vanishing them with a brief wave of his hands. He did not meet the tear-filled eyes above him, guilt flooding him. The freed hands fell loosely at the taller being’s sides. “You still call me sister?” her gruff voice rumbled in her chest.

  
The man in gold armor turned from his post, stepping down from his platform and slowly touched one of the Clawed hands. “I state the truth, do I not? I can reveal nothing else.” He smiled softly before returning to his post. “I will be watching you, Sister. I wish you happiness.” His sword locked into place and sent the threesome spiraling into the winter of Jotunnheim.

  
Helblindi and Elksa were waiting for them, the children left in the care of their nurse for the time being. “Greetings Loki-All-Father, Thor-All-Mother.” The kings of the Jotunn gave small bows to their Aesir family.

  
“Hello Helblindi-King, Elksa-King,” Loki smiled at the two men. “May I present Sif-Shield Sister to my husband, Thor-King.” The new Jotunn bowed low, her head downturned respectfully.

  
“Helblindi-King, Elksa-King, it is an honor to meet you,” she whispered before raising her head to see the two taller rulers looking at her.

  
“Rise,” Helblindi said. “Let us look at you.” The armored Jotunn stood at her full height, nearly eight feet tall, still small but relatively normal for many war-time children.

  
Elksa was the first to move, circling the transfigured woman slowly, arms crossed over his massive, bound chest. His strong gaze would have cowed a weaker warrior in seconds, their seeming ability to pierce the soul made him instantly intimidating. Sif, however, stood tall and proud, her chin raised and her eyes passive. Her arms, strong beneath the calcified armor, were relaxed but ready.

  
Thor shivered beside his husband, watching the process in the cold wind, the only being effected by it. A soft touch of Loki’s hand quickly changed that, the blue coating his skin once more, warming him. Sif raised the muscle where her eyebrow had been but said nothing, waiting as Elksa continued to circle like a shark stalking its prey.

  
Finally, the general stopped, positioning himself in such a way that Sif could see nothing else. “You will do,” he stated, the comment rumbling deep in his chest. He turned away to face the much shorter couple before him. “She will have a spot in my guard. That way I can keep an eye on her. She will have to earn my trust.”

  
“Thank you, Elksa-Brother-in-Law,” Thor said smiling. “It is a high honor for Lady Sif, I assure you.”

  
Helblinid stepped forward. “It is time to bid you goodbye, I fear, Loki-Brother. The storms have been brewing for the last few weeks. Our hibernation will begin soon.”

  
Loki smiled sadly, wishing that Jotunnheim was not closed off for half the year as it was battered by snows. It still felt like home to him, despite the comfort he had achieved on Midgard and the family he had in Asgard. There was something comforting about Jotunnheim and the cool, silence of snowfall that made him want to stay.

  
Hugging his younger brother fiercely, he said, “Until April, Helblindi.” A large hand tugged gently at his long braid.

  
“April and the promise of new life, Loki,” he smiled softly, turning to allow Elksa time with his older sibling.

  
“I will be watching Elksa. If she gives you trouble, I will be here,” he promised, meeting the commander’s intense gaze. The ruby eyes above him flickered to Thor, who was embracing the taller woman.

  
“I don’t think we will have any problems, but it is comforting to know that you will be helping us, and her, adjust.”

  
“Come, Sif-Guard. We must go,” he called, striding away into the swirling white. Sif gave Thor a small smile and followed her new liege obediently, her eyes scanning the wind-swept landscape.

  
Helblindi placed a gentle hand onto his older sibling’s rounded stomach with a little half smile on his lips. “Take care, Brother,” he murmured, his voice like gravel.

 

“You too, Brother,” Loki replied. “Be sure to say hello to the little ones for us.”

   
“The same to yours,” the Jotunn king said, waving as the Guardian swept his sibling and his life-mate back to Asgard.

  
As they rematerialized onto the polished floor of the golden observatory, Thor grasped his waist firmly but gently. Loki was thankful for it, the Rainbow Bridge disorienting him, his head spinning as nausea rolled in his stomach. “Thank you,” he murmured to the taller man, feeling the warmth seep back into the other man’s hands as he transitioned back to his normal, tanned self. The Jotunn leaned into the heat, loving the contrasting temperature that he had with his husband.

  
“Sif is settling in well,” Heimdall intoned. “Thank you, All-Father for giving her a new life.”

  
Loki cocked his head to the side, looking up at the man who was gazing out into the stars. “You’re welcome, Heimdall. I think that, eventually, Lady Sif will be thankful too.”

  
The watcher didn’t respond except for a slight twitch of his lips. With a slight incline of his head, the All-Father took his leave of the Watcher. With an inaudible whisper, he whisked himself and his life-mate back into their shared bed. The blonde man smirked, using one of his hands to smooth the ebony locks that had slipped from his lover’s braid.

  
“She is thankful, Loki,” Thor whispered into his ear.

  
“What?” the horned man exclaimed, his ruby eyes wide with surprise.

  
“She told me before she left with Elksa that she was grateful that you acted more rationally than she did.” His large hands settled more firmly on his widening hips, his thick fingers rubbing his aching low back tenderly. Unbidden tears sprung up in his eyes, and he blinked rapidly.   
“She said that?” he barely choked out, the tears closing his throat.

  
“Yes,” the King said, his forehead resting on the shorter man’s Horns. “You are a wise man, All-Father.”

  
“Jotunn,” Loki corrected with a chuckle.

  
“ _My_ Jotunn,” the other man murmured, placing a kiss in the middle of the Horns before him.

  
“Thor, the kids will be awake soon,” the blue man murmured, his claws tugging gently at the tangled mess of blonde on top of his life-mate’s head.

  
“But they’re not up yet...” Thor whispered at the base of one of his horns, smiling as shivers ran down the blue man’s spine.

 


	39. Chapter 39

  
**Bilskirnir - Asgard**

  
“Thor, this is ridiculous.” The Jotunn whined as he allowed his husband to lead him through the halls of the palace, his claws clacking along the exposed marble floor. The other man’s warm hand squeezed his slender, cool hand with a soft chuckle.

  
“Darling,” his baritone said warmly, “I just want to surprise you.”

  
The set of horns that resided on his head tilted backwards in frustration with a huff, his claws scraping slowly along the metal-veined hallway. “I know that we’re going to the new wing. I know that it’s done.”

  
He rolled his head back up, the silk scarf still tied around his ruby eyes. His free hand rubbed the elbow that was sticking out of his abdomen, feeling the baby’s hand repeatedly punch into his uterine wall. He smiled, his fangs playing at his lower lip. His life-mate may be a big oaf, but he had brought him nothing but happiness, as was evidenced below his thin fingers.

  
“You’re no fun,” Thor said cheerfully, tugging him along like one of the twins, barely able to contain his excitement. He picked up the pace, making his life-mate shake his head and jog after him, the baby jostling against his bladder uncomfortably.

  
“Thor, please!” he gasped, the babe kicking and punching furiously in his basketball shaped abdomen. “The little one is going crazy right now - ow!”

  
Thor stopped abruptly, causing him to run blindly into his husband’s broad back, his battered belly ramming into the Thunderer’s solid back. The man in front of him spun in his arms, gently kissing his brow. “I’m sorry, I should have warned you,” he murmured. “We’re here, though, my Little Jotunn. Would you like to see our new home?”

  
“Yes, please,” he said rolling his eyes behind the scarf. “Can I take this off now?” He tugged at the silk strip that obscured his vision.

  
With warm, tender fingers, his husband’s hands slid over the cloth, stimulating his ridges, and slowly removed the soft fabric. His bright, shining eyes were the first things that he saw followed by his apologetic smile. “I’m sorry,” the blonde man whispered again, one hand covering half of his stomach, the other cradling the back of his head, bringing him in for a chaste kiss.

  
“Oh, I love you, you big oaf,” he whispered against the other man’s full lips. “Now open those doors.”

  
Thor chuckled, releasing his head to place it on the massive carved oak doors. The sculpted wood was stunning, depicting images from every realm of the Nine, their landscapes flowing one into the other. He placed a blue hand on the polished wood, opposite his lover’s tan one and, simultaneously, they pushed the doors open.

  
The Jotunn gasped, his ruby eyes scanning the entryway of their new apartments. The blood marble was veined with a mixture of gold and silver, their two colors swirled around in the pillars and the floors. The color scheme was navy blue, the curtains hanging in the floor to ceiling windows, contrasting perfectly with the light shade of marble. The high ceiling was made entire of Jotunn stained glass, depicting scenes of the weather: cloudy, snowy, sunny, and rainy all mixed together. The walls were bare except for a few of Aiko’s most recent works, family photos and portraits of their lives positioned tastefully in gilded frames on the faintly line marble. “Wow,” Loki breathed, his eyes flickering about the vast room, devoid of furniture but lined with doors and archways, urging the visitor beyond into the home of the rulers of the Nine.

  
“Come,” Thor beckoned to him, an enormous grin plastered on his broad, handsome face. “Surely you must want to see the rest.”

  
The Jotunn smiled, offering a Clawed hand to the other man. “Lead on,” he said, smirk playing at his lips. The King took his hand with a gentle squeeze, his thick, tanned fingers threading between his ridged, blue ones and tugged him gently to the left. The first room was a rather large sitting room, filled with ruby upholstered furniture and maple pieces. The far wall was glass, each panel separated by a thick pillar. The outer windows were stained glass, a wash of swirling color. The rest of the panels functioned as doors, leading to a wide veranda with wicker furniture. The walls contained more of his daughter’s art, mostly images of the children with a new family portrait over the fireplace. The two men stood, arms around each other’s shoulders, heads together with Thor’s head resting on Loki’s shoulder. Their hands rested gently on the small swell of the blue man’s stomach as they watched the twins below them, smiling with their Avenger action figures clutched in their hands. Aiko had painted herself on Loki’s other side, paint on her forehead, her brush still in hand, while Frigga stood opposite her, an arm looped through Thor’s. The sight of it made the Jotunn smile. His Child of Love had captured each of them perfectly and created the image of their current reality. “I love it, Thor. It’s perfect,” he sighed, leaning into the solid muscle beside him.

  
The Thunderer just smiled and pulled him along. The next room was smaller than the first and contained all of Thor’s bachelor pad sitting room furniture and his animal head collection. “Let me guess, Darling,” the blue man said with a small eye roll, “This,” he gestured around him at the worn furniture and the furs that draped across it, “Is your private sitting room?”

  
“Yes!” Thor looked so incredibly pleased that Loki couldn’t say anything else. He was secretly glad that none of those items made it into their shared sitting room. At the same time, he could hardly imagine the women of Asgard and the Nine sitting and chatting with his husband comfortably there, so he snorted softly, rolling his ruby orbs.

  
His eyes fell on the mantle. The picture that hung above it was the photograph his husband had taken right after he and Thor had told the twins of their intent to marry. Below it sat a small portrait of Jane, smiling lovingly, on the left side, and a small portrait of him, hand stroking a horn, on the right. “It’s wonderful, Thor,” he murmured, giving the other man’s fingers a squeeze.

  
“Good,” his lover replied, placing a kiss on his Bergelmir’s Tears. “I thought you might like it.”

  
Loki smiled forcefully, trying to make his dislike for the All-Mother’s über masculine sitting room dissipate in the sight of the familial touch. It was enough for his life-mate, however, as he pulled them to the next room. It was a large, open, airy space. The walls were painted a sunny yellow, accented by a low stripe of rainbow stained glass that ran underneath each of the individual windows. The space had wall to wall carpeting, with one wall containing built in cubbies filled with stuffed animals and toys. There was a basket of blocks, another of plastic dinosaurs, another of Avengers, and another of Barbie dolls. A tall play castle, complete with turrets stood in one corner, large enough that the twins and their friends could play within it comfortably. Beside it stood a chest of old clothing, a mixture of Asgardian and Midgardian, most of it being Loki’s old clothes that he had not worn since his Fall, given a second life as dress-up clothing. “It’s a play room,” Thor explained, “For the kids.”

 

“It’s wonderful,” the Jotunn responded. “The kids will love it!”

  
“I hope so!” the blonde said, beaming. “And that way they can be close to us when they’re not sleeping or in school.”

  
The blue man staggered as his husband pulled him from the room and into the room next door. It was a dining chamber, almost exactly like their mother’s, a large oak table surrounded by cushioned chairs being central to the room. The color scheme was back to the neutral navy, contrasting nicely with the oak and the gold wall sconces.

  
Thor pulled him along to the next room, opening the door to another yellow room with a single, large window that was laced with beautiful, stained glass snow blossoms, and opened onto a small balcony. Along one wall stood a maple crib and changing table. Opposite the crib was a cushioned rocking chair beside a bassinet. “Oh, Thor,” he whispered, rubbing the foot that was poking into his left hip. “It’s beautiful. The little one will love it.”

  
“So long as it’s Mummy likes it,” he whispered, smiling softly before kissing his lips lovingly.

  
“I think that it’s bearer _loves_ it,” the blue man said, wrapping his arms around his lover, relishing in his heat as the taller man rubbed out his lower back.

  
“Wait until you see what’s next door,” Thor said, walking backwards, his arms still wrapped his life-mate’s swollen body. Loki chuckled, knowing exactly what was next door. The right side of the main room had only two doors. Thor steered them out the door to the nursery and across the main room at a diagonal.

  
“So...not the bedroom?” the All-Father asked, confused.

  
“No, you need to see this first,” the All-Mother said, smiling, opening the heavy oak door behind him.

  
The first room off the main foyer on the right was an office and a library, decorated in his emerald and gold. The furniture within it was from his sitting room, the emerald velvet looking gently used and comfortable. The large window behind the black walnut desk overlooked the fields that lay on the outskirts of the city. On the desk sat his silver scrying bowl, ready for use and glinting in the light from the massive window and the high wall sconces. The rest of the walls were lined with floor to ceiling shelves, filled with books upon books varying in subject matter from biology to herb-lore to history to fairytales. Loki ran his claws over the well-worn spines, tears springing to his eyes as if he were greeting old, forgotten friends.

  
“I thought you might like a place to go.” His husband’s voice pulled him back into reality and he swiveled his watery gaze to the blonde. He was smiling gently, his face understanding, his hands open to him. “Aiko told me that you’ve been working out of the library or your sitting room, so I thought that a combination of the two would be nice. And, if I put it back here, you might get some peace and quiet. There’s a lock on the door, to keep the children out, and, if need be, insufferable life-mates.” He grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you like it?”

  
“I absolutely _love_ it,” he murmured, once again melding himself, cat-like around the solid body of his husband. His lips found the full lips of his life-mate, his tongue tracing them, teasing the other man. The hot cavern of the Thunderer’s mouth opened for him with a soft moan. Loki’s tongue stroked the roof of his husband’s mouth greedily before pulling back, nipping at his lower lip. “Maybe we should finish this tour?” he muttered huskily.

  
Thor grabbed his hand firmly and pulled him from his office and into the room next door, the furthest from the main entrance and directly across from the new nursery. The solid doors swung open and were promptly kicked closed by the God of Thunder. Their nest bed was sitting in the center of the room, a wall of light grey chiffon blowing in the wind from the open windows and doors that led to the private balcony. There was a door to a large, shared walk-in closet on the right side of the room, filled mostly with his husband’s clothes. The door on the left led to the bathroom, which Loki was certain would be explored later. Right now, all there was was him, his perfect mate, and a large, comfortable bowl-shaped bed in the middle of their new, private apartments.


	40. Chapter 40

**The Royal Apartment, Bilskirnir - Asgard**

  
His fingers traced the strangely muscular flesh around the dome on the sleeping Jotunn’s abdomen, taking in the definition of the area, miraculously retained despite the pregnancy. Loki was fit, he had maintained his sparring routine, despite being at the end of his second trimester, still beating anyone who dared to face him, though he was using a bit more seidr now than he had in months past. He had also begun to do yoga in the mornings with Aiko, something that Bruce did regularly. Apparently, he had done it late into his pregnancy with the twins and had found that it helped. The king certainly wasn’t going to complain, enjoying watching his husband contort his amazing body into strange but powerful shapes.

  
He placed a light kiss on the bump, feeling the babe shift slightly beneath his lips, and allowed his hands to wander higher. His fingers skirted over his husband’s thinly muscled ribcage and circled his fully developed breasts, loving how the ridges there made the younger man sigh in his sleep when they were stroked. He placed gentle kissed one each bud before shifting higher still, his nose tracing a Jotunn ridge up the side of Loki’s neck and over his defined jaw. A finger stroked one of his sculpted cheekbones as he kissed his straight nose, thin lips, and each eyelid. Lastly, he placed a tender kiss at the base of each horn, loving the feeling of the contrasting textures of the smooth keratin and the sandpapery skin meeting on his life-mate’s brow.

  
With a soft sigh and a whispered, loving phrase, he slid from the nest and pulled his sleeping trunks on. With a small smile, he pulled the silk sheets over the blue man, protecting his modesty more than shielding him from the cool chill of the September morning. He had not been sleeping well as of late, the pressure of running the Nine, organizing a class about seidr that he would teach once a week, and dealing with the children had taken it’s toll, not to mention his state of being over eight months pregnant with their child. So much was happening today, but for now, he would let the Jotunn sleep. Other matters could wait for an hour or two.

  
He slowly opened the glass door to their private balcony, pushing the cloudy grey chiffon to the side, and stepped out into the morning air. The sky was painted a beautiful shade of violet mixed with the shiny brilliance of light yellow, like one of the paintings or photographs that his eldest daughter concocted in her studio. He leaned against the railing, looking out over the vast expanse of his domain. To his left stretched the dark forest, teeming with game and monsters, before him was his city, shining in the golden light of dawn, and to his right, the beginning of the fields, filled with livestock and crops, flourishing under his care as All-Mother, caregiver to all growing things.

  
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” A soft, gravelly voice asked from the doorway behind him. Thor turned slowly, leaning his back against the marble railing casually, looking at the perfection that stood before him. Loki was wearing his favorite robe, emerald silk, tied loosely over his basketball shaped bump, a hand running through his loose, sex tousled hair while the other rested on his half-hidden stomach.

  
“I think I like this view better.” He closed the gap between himself and his husband, kissing his blue lips tenderly, his large hand covering the exposed skin of the other man’s abdomen. Loki lowered his head in a blush, resting his Horns on his broad shoulder, giving him access to his handsome horns and his mess of ebony hair. His free hand played over the curving structures and his fingers ran through the black curtain, adding to the tangles. The Jotunn purred against him, his cool breath playing across his bare chest, making him shiver. He slid his hands down the other man’s back, feeling the silk pull at the ridges hidden beneath the fabric, and pulled him closer. He could feel the baby kicking and punching against the other man’s stomach, connecting with the solid abdominals of his own abdomen. “Much better,” he whispered, feeling his hot breath send shivers down the blue man’s spine.

  
“Thor,” the rough, tired voice reverberated against his shoulder. “We should get going, my Love. Today’s a big day.”

  
He chuckled, loving the feeling of his life-mates claws as they gently scratched his back. “I suppose you are right,” he sighed, placing a kiss on the other man’s temple. “After all, it would look bad if the teacher is late for school.”  
____________________________________________

  
**Training Yard, Palace Grounds - Asgard**

  
It had been his husband’s idea to bring the students to them. The palace had plenty of lightly used rooms, perfect for educating large quantities of people, and it meant that the royal family could remain within the palace, in case of an emergency. Or, much to Thor’s liking, in case things got a bit too dangerous for his life-mate or their children.

  
He twirled his training sword aimlessly, nervously waiting for the youth of Asgard to arrive, Mjölnir humming softly at his side. He calmed her with a light stroke of his fingers.

  
“So...how are things?” the jovial voice of Fandral asked, his rapier swishing in small light arcs as the debonaire man warmed-up. Volstagg and Hogun smiled, sending knowing smiles towards their friends as they too stretched, the larger man’s axes spinning while the Vanir’s mace whirled lightly through the crisp morning air.

  
“Fine,” Thor responded, a smile playing at his lips. “Just fine.”

  
“Oh, come now, Thor,” the other blonde prodded, “Did he like it at least? You put a lot of time and effort into planning your new home. Did the big blue man at least thank you for it?”

  
The fierce blush that flooded the muscular man’s face was all that the Warriors Three needed to see. “Oh, ho!” Fandral said, clapping his king on his broad back. “Lucky man!”

  
“And don’t you forget it,” the All-Mother retorted in a low mutter, shoving the other man away. He spotted a large group of children - young adults really - making their way across the open ground to the training yard. “Here come the students. Please be on your best behavior, gentlemen.”

  
“I am _always_ on my best behavior!” Fandral exclaimed, hand over his heart in mock offense. Volstagg laughed boisterously and even Hogun cracked a small, tight-lipped smile.They knew that that statement was far from true.   
_______________________________________________

  
**Lesser Hall, Palace - Asgard**

  
“Please, have a seat so we can get started.” Loki clapped his hands together, turning away from the blackboard on which he had just scratched his lesson plan, and faced the gathering of future seidr-users. He smiled his tight-lipped smile, keeping his startling fangs hidden inside his mouth. “Welcome to the basics of wielding seidr. I am your instructor, All-Father Loki Laufeyson. You may call me All-Father or Loki.”

  
His ruby eyes scanned the students seated before him. Many of them were between the ages of eight and sixteen with a majority of them Aesir, though there were a few Vanir and a couple of Light Elves as well. Many of them seemed rather fascinated, whether it was by him or by the subject matter, he was sure he’d find out, but, for now, he was pleased that he had students at all. He took a deep breath in through his nose, calming his nerves though the babe squirmed, kicking at his right hip bone. He gently placed a hand there, rubbing the spot gently through his tunic. The students squirmed a bit uncomfortably in their seats.

  
He cleared his throat, shifting the attention away from his stomach and back onto his lined face. “You have all tested positive for having seidr. I will tell you now that everyone’s seidr is different and what I hope to accomplish here is to help you discover more about your own personal magic and to help you wield it. If you find that you are struggling with tasks, please, alert me and we will deal with it together.” He scanned the room again meeting every single set of eyes before beginning his lesson. “Please, focus on the candle before you. I would like you to use your seidr to light it.”

  
He started pacing, his claws clicking lightly on the marble, his hand still rubbing his sore abdomen. “Now, how do you do that, you ask? First, you must look inward to find the source of your seidr. There will be a strong concentration of it somewhere within you. For me, my natural born seidr is nestled in my chest cavity centered between my lungs and beneath my heart, my developed Jotunn seidr is found in the soles of my feet and in my palms, drawing power from the very earth on which I walk. The gifted seidr of the All-Father is centered in my spine, shifting up and down it’s length for easy access.” He stopped pacing and faced the assembled youth of Asgard, Aelfheim, and Vanaheim.

  
“Why am I telling you this?” He raised his eyebrows. “It is to prove to you that no one seidr is going to be found in the same place for everyone. So, take your time now and look within.” Fifty sets of eyes closed, faces contorting in concentration. He smiled lightly, proud of his diligent pupils. “Once you have found the source of your seidr, please raise your hand.”

  
Slowly, hands raised, one by one until every hand was up. “Now, in your mind’s eye, picture that candle before you. Imagine it lit with a small flame.”  
_____________________________________________

  
“Thank you for your hard work today,” the Jotunn said, smiling with closed lips, “I will see you next week where we will continue the work we started today.”

  
He gestured the class out the door, his eyes kind. The children filed past, looking exhausted. Only one had been successful in lighting her candle and it promptly went out as soon as she realized that it had been lit.

  
“Um...excuse me, All-Father?” a soft voice asked.

  
Loki looked down at the young woman who stood before him. Her sharp features and light blonde, almost white, hair made her strikingly beautiful. The tips of her pointed, elven ears were a pretty shade of pink. She was young, maybe about ten. “Hello,” he said, his head tilted slightly. “What is your name, Darling?”

  
“I’m Princess Nadezhda of Aelfheim,” she said with a small curtsy, smiling at him brightly. “Thank you for teaching us. I learned so much today.”

  
His brow knitted slightly. “Thank you, Princess Nadezhda. I am glad that you learned something today.”

  
“Could I ask you something, All-Father?” the young Elf asked, a pretty smile playing at her lips. She blushed, looking down as if afraid to ask.  
“Of course,” Loki responded, his smile slipping a bit with concern. “And please, call me Loki.”

  
“All-Father Loki,” the young woman said, her eyes fixed on his rounded stomach. “Who is going to teach when you leave?”

  
“Oh, Princess Nadezhda,” the Jotunn replied, a hand resting under his stomach. “Queen Mother Frigga will begin teaching in November. She taught me as I was beginning to study my seidr. You will be in good hands, I promise.”

  
“Ok,” she replied, a huge smile on her pale, angular face. “I’ll miss you, though All-Father. Come back soon.”

  
She skipped off down the hallway, still beaming. “I’m not leaving until November!” he called after her retreating form, smiling, happy that he had made a difference in one child’s life in one day.  
_____________________________________

  
**Bilskirnir - Asgard**

  
“So,” he said, his fingers tracing the muscles of his husband’s abdomen causing them to flex with the stimulation, “How did you day go?”

  
“Well,” the blue man responded, his own fingers stroking and caressing his blonde hair and beard. “None of my students mentioned anything about my race or seemed put off by it or my current state at all. I even had a student get worried about my maternity leave. She didn’t want me to go.” His rich ‘ehehe’ cut through the bedroom. “Then she found out that Mother will be taking over my class and she was practically beaming with excitement.”

  
Thor guffawed, his hot breath playing across the other man’s collarbone. “I’d say that your day was a success!”

  
“What about you?” Loki asked, pulling the larger man closer, his heavy head resting just above his newly developed breasts, his deft fingers plaiting tiny braids into his golden locks. “Any problems?”

  
“Fandral is a child,” he grumbled, his beard tickling the cool, cobalt skin his cheek rested on.

  
The Jotunn laughed, his chest rising and falling jerkily. “Tell me something that I don’t know, Darling!”

  
“Well,” the Thunderer muttered, “He was more of a child than usual today.” He rolled over, his blue eyes meeting the ruby orbs of his husband. “One of our students got a hit on him and he pouted for the rest of the lesson.”

  
The All-Father laughed boisterously, his hands scraping gently across his scarred back. “Seriously?!”

  
“Oh, yes,” the King said, “A child.” His husband’s smile and careful claws easing away the tension that his first day of teaching had caused.

  
“Who was it?” Loki asked, propping himself up on his elbows, his head cocked to the side.

  
“Who do you think?” he responded, levering himself off of his husband’s body, leaning heavily on one of his elbows.

  
The All-Father raised his eyebrows, his lips quirking down in a mock frown. “Ren. It was Ren.”

 

He nodded, his smile growing. “Not bad for a future son-in-law, if I may say so myself.”

  
The other man tossed his horns, his smile reflecting his pride. “He has been training in Jotunnheim for the last six months, so I’m glad that he is being successful.” He sat up, his knees folding themselves into a cross-legged position. “What is his weapon of choice?”

  
“He used an ice blade. It was quite a statement. It certainly drew a few looks from his classmates.” Thor sat up as well, shifting so that he could sit behind his life-mate. His hands rubbed gently against the blue back, easing the muscle tension there.

  
“Lower,” Loki moaned as his hands traveled down his spine to drill his thumbs into his lower back as his fingers eased over and around his hips. “Oh, _Thor_.”

  
His life-mate leaned back into the pressure with a soft sigh. “This is Valhalla.”

  
“Yes,” he murmured, placing a kiss onto the defined cheekbone of his lover. “Yes it is.”

 


	41. Chapter 41

  
**Bilskirnir, Play Room - Asgard**

  
“Shhh,” the Black Widow hushed her companion, holding up a hand in warning before ducking and rolling behind a pillar.

  
“C’mon Nat!” Iron Man rolled his eyes at the spy. “All this sneaking around isn’t going to defeat the Leviathan!” He stood above her, hands on his armored hips, his foot tapping impatiently.

  
“I’m with Natasha on this one, Stark,” Steve Rogers whispered, hoisting his shield, providing cover on their exposed side.

  
A frantic scrambling sound of claws on stone echoed from the other side of the pillar. “It won’t stay trapped in our Tower for much longer,” the Captain said. “We must come up with a plan.”

  
“I have a plan,” the billionaire said, “Attack!” He flew out from behind the pillar as the red-headed woman sprang after him, the Captain following with an eye roll.

  
The Tower loomed before them, it’s occupant howling in rage that they would dare attack him in his new stronghold. Iron Man flew about the structure, searching for any possible way in. “It’s not looking good,” he called over the comms.

  
“What are you suggesting? That we just prance in through the front door?” the assassin hissed, inserting a clip into her pistol.

  
“That is _exactly_ what I’m suggesting,” the flying man said.

  
“Let’s talk about this, Tony!” Steve insisted, as the other man blatantly ignored him.

  
“No can do, Capsicle! We’ve got to draw the beastie out and destroy it.” With a barrage of lasers, Iron Man destroyed the hinges on the door, unleashing the Leviathan.

  
The Widow was on it in an instant, using the super soldier’s shield to launch herself onto the top of the beast. She ran along it’s spine, shooting as she went, trying to find a weakness. The Captain joined her shortly after, as Tony continued to unleash hellfire down on the beast that was destroying Manhattan.

  
Their combined efforts finally brought the beast down, panting and growling it’s defeat. “Yay! Go Team!” Tony yelled, fist pumping the air.

  
“Nicely done, Avengers,” the Captain said proudly.

  
“Let’s go reclaim our Tower,” Agent Romanoff smiled happily.

  
“I, for one, am so thankful that such strong and brave superheroes are watching out for Midgard. Norns know that it certainly has it’s fair share of troubles, and, honestly, I could use the help.”

  
The kids turned around, to find the King of Asgard and the Protector of Midgard leaning against the door jam, his arms crossed over his substantial chest, a broad smile on his face. Fafnir bounded over with a deep woof, his tongue lolling joyfully out of his mouth, glad to see his favorite person. He leapt about happily, his head stopping mid-chest on the god. He ruffled the beast’s fur with a chuckle. “Why did Loki have to transfigure you into something so large?”

  
His eyes found the children again, their smiling faces bringing him such joy. Daryn was wearing one of Loki’s fitted black tunics that would no longer fit over his horns, a red ribbon tied around her waist. Tory had his tiny training armor on, a round silver platter strapped to his left arm with a leather strap. Freddie was looking absolutely ridiculous, wrapped in one of his old, ragged scarlet cloaks, his husband’s war helm practically falling off of his curly head. “Would my good friends Captain America, the Man of Iron, and Black Widow like to wash up and come to dinner now that their task is done?”

  
The kids’ voices mingled into one as they pulled their costumes off and threw them back into the chest before running past him, out of the room and down the hall into the master bedroom bath to wash their hands. Thor chuckled, shooing the dog out of the play room and firmly closing the door behind him so the beast wouldn’t create a mess. With a smile on his lips, he followed the children to the bathroom, mopped up the wet counter and washed his own hands.

  
“Thor?” the rough baritone of the voice he loved echoed around the bedchamber beyond.

  
“Coming,” he replied jovially, exiting the bathing chamber. His husband stood, a hand rubbing his bump through his loose-fitting tunic, the baby inevitably beating about his insides mercilessly. His hair had been chopped short again, tucked behind his ears as it had been when they were boys, before his Fall. He held out a Clawed hand to him, a fang biting into his lower lip as he smiled back at him. He strode over to the blue man, taking the cool hand in his, thinking that his life-mate had never looked so handsome as he did then.

  
His face must have reflected the thought because the Jotunn gave his hand a firm squeeze, tilting his horns down as he did when reprimanding one of the children. “Thor,” he said firmly. “Our friends are waiting.”

  
He sighed, running a hand through his husband’s intensely black hair. “You’re so beautiful.”

  
Loki shoved him playfully, pushing him towards the door. “Come along, you big oaf,” he said, his smile evident in his voice. “We can’t keep them waiting too long or Stark will send a search party.” He gave him another shove from behind, his chuckle doing nothing to stop the stirring that he was experiencing in his loins.

  
He turned around, sliding an arm around his lover’s waist, caressing the other man’s stomach, feeling the beating that the babe was giving the poor Jotunn. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, planting a kiss on the other man’s temple, causing him to blush.

  
“It’s fine, Thor,” he murmured, his voice deep and gravelly, and so incredibly sexy. “The babe just takes after its father. I’m already blue, no amount of internal battery is going to make me any bluer.”

  
They swung into the dining room, his thickly muscled arm still wrapped securely around his pregnant husband’s widening waist, his heat easing some of the tense muscles in the other man’s back. Their visiting friends were seated around their new dining room table, chattering quietly as the kids yammered on. “Hey, the Lovebirds have finally left the nest!” The billionaire smiled knowingly at the couple, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

  
The King of Asgard pulled out the chair at the foot of the table for his husband, who squeezed his hand gently as a thank you, his back propped up by the embroidered throne pillow that their Mother had gifted to him for Christmas the year before the twins were born. Making his way to the head of the table and assuming his seat there, he found his smile widening, overwhelmed with his happiness. “Shall we eat, Friends?” he asked, beaming at the faces that were seated around the large, oaken table.

  
“Yes, please!” Freddie chimed in, his fork and knife already in his hands. He chuckled at the eager child and gestured the serving staff forward, plates of steaming food placed before their guests. He had slaughtered the boars (and a hart for his beloved) that morning as Loki had conducted his meetings for him. With the food came conversation, filled with smiles and laughter. Tony made a small, nauseous sound as he watch the buxom man at the foot of the table carve his raw, bleeding stag with gusto, causing the twins to laugh at the man’s queasy stomach. A small food fight broke out between the assassins, peas flying through the air, many of them falling to the floor, much to Fafnir’s delight. Ren and Aiko discreetly held hands under the table while the twins and Freddie not so discreetly pointed it out with much ‘ew’-ing. The King’s attention flickered to his mother as she positively beamed at the people around her.

  
“I never dreamed in all my life that we would be here,” the goddess said, smiling. “Surrounded by my beautiful,” her gaze flickered to her youngest son, his hand rubbing the side of his stomach, a small wince on his ridged face, “Growing, family and their wonderful and charming friends.”

  
“Well, Grandmother,” Aiko had cut in, smiling as she held her life-mate’s hand, her thumb running over his Claws, “I never dreamed that my deepest desires would come true: I have a family with a loving grandmother, two perfect siblings with one on the way, and the world’s most wonderful parents. In fact, it’s more than I could have ever dreamed of.”

  
“Oh, this is fun!” Asha declared, her hand grasping that of her fiancé. “I never thought that helping a crazy mass murderer heal a sick mortal girl with a mysterious disease, would lead me to meet my best friend.” She smiled at Bruce and rubbed his arm tenderly. “How about you, Sweetie?”

  
“Well, I certainly never thought I’d find anyone who would want to be with me, especially with the Other Guy, and yet here you are.” The Doctor said, his brown eyes on the beautiful, dark-haired woman beside him. He placed a gentle kiss on her temple with a small smile. “I also never thought that I’d become the gynecologist to the man I smashed into Stark’s Penthouse floor.”

  
Loki snorted, choking on his cup of chocolate as Aiko gasped, her hand covering her delicate mouth and her rather loud laugh. Thor’s blue eyes went wide, his mouth opening slightly as his lips quirked up. The rest of the assembled grown-ups laughed, admitting that the scenario was rather ridiculous.

  
“Blue?” Torsten asked, his wide emerald eyes fixed on him. “What’s a guy-no-caw-lid-jest?”

  
“Oh,” the Jotunn responded, face falling a bit at the sensitive subject matter, “It’s a - a special kind of doctor who checks on babies while they’re still inside their bearer.”

  
“Oh, okay,” the five year old said, grinning from ear to ear as he shrugged and turned back to his sister.

  
“Well, shifting gears back onto something a bit more important than Loki’s lady bits, I never thought that I’d be working as part of a team, seeing as I don’t play well with others.” The Man of Iron looked smug, leaning back from the table and crossing his arms. “The rest would be exactly the same.” Loki rolled his ruby eyes at the inventor but didn’t say anything, his lips a tight line.

  
“I never thought that I’d be alive right now,” the super soldier said, a soft smile on his face. “I’m not disappointed that I am though. I’m a very lucky man with some wonderful friends.” He smiled brightly.

  
“I certainly didn’t think that I’d have a kid, or a partner,” Natasha said honestly. “I just assumed that I’d have been killed by now.”

  
“Ditto,” replied the archer, his arm around his fellow assassin’s back. “Plus the glaucoma. That was a doozy.” He turned to face the head of the table. “What about you, mighty Thor? Anything surprising in your life?” He cheekily placed his elbow on the table and blinked at the man at the head of the table, a stupid looking smile plastered on his face as it rested in his palm.

  
He sighed, scanning the table and feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on him. His life was so different than what he had originally planned, and truly what had been planned for him. “I guess the biggest change in my life was my banishment by Odin, when I met Jane and learned of Loki’s adoption. I guess I never thought that being banished from my home could bring me such joy.”

  
His husband smiled. “Who knew that an inopportune trip to Jotunnheim would have led us here, Thor?” His hand was rubbing his stomach again while the other gestured around him. “It all goes back to that trip to Jotunnheim.”

  
“That is does,” the King responded, smiling. “Would anyone like dessert?”  
__________________________________________

  
“The warrior stood proudly over the beast’s remains, his princess standing beside him, her sword in hand. They smiled at each other and hugged as the dust settled. Together, they had saved their kingdom.” His clawed hands closed the worn cover of the book of fairy tales with a very soft “The end.”

  
He pulled the three little children into his cool body. “Time for bed, Little Ones,” he murmured, his ruby eyes scanning the yawning faces and blinking eyes of Tory, Daryn, and Freddie. They were all snuggled into one double bed that Thor had moved into Torsten’s room for the week that the Midgardians were visiting Asgard. Stark had been put into Daryn’s pink room, much to Loki’s delight and the Man of Iron’s displeasure.

  
With a soft smile, he extricated himself from the clutches of the children, gently prying fingers off of his tunic. The princess’ blonde hair was spilled over his rounded stomach, her hand soothing the being within him. Of course, as soon as he moved the babe would wake and resume it’s normal routine of kicking and punching every second of it’s existence. The heir was resting over his left bosom, lulled by the deep voice and the steady heartbeat that resided underneath the blue skin. Freddie had mirrored his best friend’s position, his curly red head resting on his right clavicle.

  
He slowly pulled himself out of the huddle and crawled to the end of the bed, allowing the little ones to rearrange themselves on the goose feather pillows. Easing himself off the bed with a groan, the babe awake and kicking, he made his way back to the top of the bed and the drowsy, curly heads of the children. “Good night, Darlings,” he murmured. “Sweet dreams. Don’t let the Bilgesnipes bite.”

  
The kids laughed tiredly, snuggling into their pillows. The Jotunn pulled the warm sheets up to their chins, brushing hair off of foreheads and leaving kisses on their brows. With a soft sigh, he padded to the door and swirled his fingers, lowering the lights. With a final glance at the slumbering children, he smiled, a fang digging into his lower lip. “Sleep well.”

  
He softly closed the door behind him with a gentle click, his ridged hand resting on the carved wood. “Are the children asleep?”

  
He turned to see his husband standing in the main hall of Bilskirnir, a cup in each hand.

  
“Yes,” he whispered, smiling. “It only took three bedtime stories - new record-ooof!” He began to rub the basketball that was his abdomen, purring quietly in an attempt to lull the extremely active baby back to sleep.

  
Thor gave him an apologetic look, his eyes taking on that irresistible puppy-like quality. He held up a hand before the other man could open his mouth. “Don’t.” He gave his horns a firm shake, striding to meet the other man who still looked sorry, his eyes downcast.

  
Suddenly, as if remembering something, his eyes met those of his husband, shining like a pristine mountain lake. “I thought you might be tired, so I went to the kitchens and got something for you.” The blonde offered up the two cups with a bright smile. “Chocolate! And we’re going to go drink it in our rooms while I rub your feet and your back until you fall asleep.”

  
His lips quirked up crookedly as he sighed, leaning in to kiss the other man chastely, his cool lips burning on contact with the pink pair. “Well then,” he whispered suggestively, “What are we waiting for?”

  
“Oh come on! Where’s my midnight snack? My massage?” With a quick flick of his wrist, the door to the inventor’s borrowed bedchamber closed firmly on the goateed face of the Man of Iron.

  
“Go to bed, Stark,” he muttered, rolling his eyes, before deepening the kiss he was sharing with his husband.

 


	42. Chapter 42

  
**Training Grounds - Asgard**

  
Loki twirled Gungnir in his deft hands, spinning it around his back, loosening his shoulders. The exercise also helped him discover how far he could bend, which was much less than he had originally thought. The little one was definitely growing in there, pummeling his innards and stretching at the least convenient times. He planted the butt of his spear into the packed clay of the training field, and stretched backwards, his hands pressed into the small of his back with a groan.

  
“Are you serious?” The voice of Tony Stark cut through the din of the early morning. “Tell me that this is a joke. Point Break - this is a joke right. You’re not letting your _significant other_ fight people when he’s very _obviously pregnant_.”

  
Silence greeted the man’s statement. He cocked an eyebrow, bending forward, around his stomach with a sigh, letting his arms hang before rising up again, shaking his limbs out. “But seriously, oh King of Asgard, you’re letting Loki do this?” The Man of Iron continued, the Jotunn hearing the crunch of the feet of his friends as they entered the arena.

  
“Of course!” his husband responded as if the answer were obvious. “Loki does what he wants.” Strong arms wrapped securely under his bound bosom and hot breath played through his shortened hair.

  
“And don’t you forget it!” he replied, spinning in his husband’s embrace to capture the other man’s perfect lips, sucking a little on Thor’s lower lip.

  
“Ew! God, you guys! Get a room!” Clint Barton’s voice cut into their little bubble.

  
Loki broke away from the blonde god with one final kiss and turned to the assembled Avengers. “Alright, let’s get started by pairing off, a little one-on-one.”

  
The group shuffled about. Natasha pairing off with Hogun, Clint with Volstagg, Thor with Bruce, Tony with Fandral. That left Steve, staring at his shoes as they got coated in the loose, red dust. “Alright,” the Jotunn clapped his hands together, “That leaves us, Steve! I hope you’re ready.”

  
The super soldier shook his head, his hands held up in the symbol of defeat. “I can’t fight you, Loki,” he said quietly. “I just can’t do it.”  
“Steve,” he sighed, attempting to wield the puppy eyes that he used on Thor on the man out of time. It did not work, though it did make the blonde shift uncomfortably. The blue man gritted his considerably pointed teeth, releasing a small growl.

  
Shifting tactics, he called forth his Jotunn seidr and lunged for the super soldier, fangs bared, ice dagger flashing in the sunlight. The spangled shield came up and he knew he was in business. He tossed the dagger to his other hand with a savage grin plastered onto his face. The American swung at him, almost catching his horns as he ducked and rolled, swinging his leg out to trip the man. The move did not work as well as he had planned, only stalling the next blow, a downward shift of the shield long enough for him to get out of the way. As quickly as his swollen body would allow, he spun up to his horned feet, throwing up an ice shield for the other man to crash through before using his duplication trick to get behind him for a sneak attack.

  
Hearing the other man’s shocked yelp as his punch connected with thin air made him laugh, any thought of surprise gone as the pleasure of watching the super soldier stammer flooded his senses. Thankfully, his pre-meditated move behind the other man brought him to Gungnir. Spinning around the shaft, his two, clawed feet connected soundly with the other man’s chest, his hooked big toe claws tearing the fabric. When he landed, he yanked the spear out of the ground and swung it up, where it was met by the shield, resulting in a glorious, resonant clang, and a pair of ringing Jotunn ears.

  
The super soldier’s right hook connected firmly with his jaw, clacking his teeth together sharply and spinning his head around. Swinging the head of Gungnir around his back, he solidly whacked the other man on the side of his head before swinging the butt around to connect with the other man’s ribs. Staying on the attack, he flicked the end of the spear around and countered with an ice blade, bringing it in towards the exposed side of the soldier, allowing it to shatter on the vibranium shield that was moved there in the nick of time. Leaving his hand on the metal, he iced it quickly, hearing the other man gasp with the piercing cold.

  
Steve freed himself from the shield quickly, but not quickly enough. Seizing his opportunity, the Jotunn launched himself onto the blonde, straddling him and dropping the pair of them to the ground. He dropped Gungnir with a whispered apology and formed another dagger with his seidr, shoving it under the other man’s chin while his free hand, placed over the man out of time’s heart, released a brief paralytic spell that seized the muscles of the form below him.

  
“Yield,” he rasped, panting as the babe threw itself against the walls of his womb, causing him to firmly grit his teeth to prevent himself from releasing a moan. Instead, the sound manifested as a rather pathetic whine which made the blue man seriously reconsider his choices.

  
Immediately, the soldier’s eyes fell from the blue face to the blue belly. The fight eased from his body and his face took on an ashamed quality. “God, Loki,” he whispered, unable to move. “I’m an awful person. Forgive me, please.”

  
The Jotunn sat back on his heels with a huff, taking his gaze off of the man below him. “Don’t.”

  
He dropped the spell and rose to his feet as gracefully as he could, given his state, with only a little help from Gungnir, using the spear to balance his shifting center of gravity. Offering his Clawed hand to the blonde man below him, he continued. “ _I_ attacked you, not the other way around.” He smiled when Steve grasped his hand and he stepped back, hefting the other man to his feet. “It was a good bout. And, thank you, Steve. It’s been rather boring sparring with those four clowns. They’re very predictable.” He clapped the captain on his shoulder. “You’ve improved since Stüttgard.”

  
The other man brushed his sweaty hair off of his forehead with a tired smirk. “I must say that you are as unpredictable as ever. Let’s do this again sometime. Preferably when you’re not nearly nine months pregnant.” He held out a hand which the All-Father gratefully accepted.

  
“Deal.” They shook on it, smiling at each other.

  
“Did you just lose to a pregnant man?” The obnoxious voice of the Man of Iron traversed the training yard, ruining yet another moment. His horned head whipped around to spot the man, caught in a headlock by Fandral without the help of his mystical armor, staring at him dumbfounded.

  
The super soldier beside him shrugged, nonchalantly. “I guess I did. But, in my defense, he’s an older pro than me.”

  
“What are you even saying right now, Vanilla Ice Cream? You took it easy on him, right? Tell me that you took it easy on him.” The man extricated himself from the headlock and strode across the ring toward the pair.

  
“No,” the captain said, shaking his head as he mopped his brow again. “I was definitely going all out. Loki beat me, fair and square.”

  
“How is that unbelievable, Stark?” he said snidely, his head tilted and his eyes narrowed. “Because I am pregnant, I should be weak? Unable to defend myself and my family?” He paused, his eyes drilling into the inventor. “I am Jotunn and we live and die for our loved ones. We are all warriors and we defend what is ours. My bearer birthed me in battle during the Great War. If he could do that, then I should be able to spar with my friends without fear of harming my child.”

  
He smirked, his fangs on full display. “And besides, as my husband said, _I do what I want_. And, I promise you, I will do it _better_ than anyone else.”

  
“Yeah, yeah,” the inventor said with an equally ridiculous smirk on his sweaty face. “You strut, big man. You tell ‘em who’s boss, who wears the pants in Asgard.”

  
“Well, I happen to be the most powerful being in the Universe, so there is no debate. I do, however, wear a loincloth, which is close to a skirt than pants. Thor wears the pants.” He nodded to his husband who was conveniently being tossed through the air by the Hulk.

  
The other pairs dissipated to watch the Hulk-Thor grudge match and Natasha made her way over to him. “Why do you wear so little clothing, may I ask?” She leaned into him, cooling her body with his icy exterior. “You claim to hate this skin and yet you barely wear anything.”

  
His smile slipped a bit at the question, startled that the spy had asked him something about him that was so personal. They were friends, yes, but they left certain subjects at the door when they met. One was Budapest, though he doubted that anything had happened there anyway, and the other was his true form and his continued struggle with it. “Uh...” His ruby eyes watched his doctor take a strong hit to the chin from Mjölnir before grabbing the King by one leg and smashing him repeatedly into the ground. “It’s the ridges - the lighter colored raised lines. They’re highly sensitive and clothing is uncomfortable. When they’re covered, it’s like having a cold. Your nose is plugged so you can’t breathe, smell, or taste anything. Livable but uncomfortable and undesirable. No Jotunn wear more clothing than necessary.”

  
“I see,” the Widow answered. “I’m sorry I asked. I know you-”

  
He laid a kind hand on her shoulder, stopping her apology. “It’s fine, Nat. It’s an honest question. Besides,” He rubbed his stomach tenderly as the babe stretch again, “Who know what this one will look like, what traits it will inherit from me.” He inhaled shakily, turning away from the beating that his gynecologist was giving his husband, to meet the shorter woman’s sympathetic blue-green eyes. “I’m scared, Natasha. Terrified for this child.”

  
She wrapped her arms around his growing middle and squeezed gently. “I know,” she murmured. He shot her a terrified glance. “You hide it well, I am just as well-versed in reading people as you are.” Her eyes met his, her brow furrowing. “Does Thor know?”

  
“No, he is too excited to see how this could mean that our child will be feared and hated, loathed because of me and because of what it will look like.” He smiled softly, a hand cradling his globe-like abdomen. “There are times when I wish I was more like him, not worried about what the future holds, not caring what others think of him, living in the now.”

  
A smaller, warmer hand on his stomach stopped his rambling, though the baby flew to the touch, drawn to the heat. “He hasn’t endured what you have, Loki. He doesn’t have those worries because he hasn’t had to face them. Besides, you worry enough for the both of you. And if anyone tried to hurt this child, they will have to go through a long line of people.”

  
She gave him a smile, the baby punch at her hand, and he returned the gesture. “Thank you, Natasha. I needed that.”

  
“Anytime,” she smirked, dropping her hand and returning her gaze to the training yard, where Thor was helping a gasping Banner to his feet. Both men were bloodied and bruised but they were laughing, smiles splitting their faces. Loki walked over, his healing siedr playing at his fingertips, ready to mend the hurts that they had caused each other.  
________________________________________________

  
“Blue?”

  
The soft voice of his daughter cut through his thoughts along with the light click of the balcony door closing behind the beautiful woman. He turned, leaning against the railing, and smiled softly.

  
She was beautiful, there was no doubt of that. Her coffee complexion had deepened in the summer sun, glowing under it’s steady rays and making her crystalline orbs stand out sharply, the most stunning parts of her impossibly perfect face. Her hair was tied back in the braid he had taught her on Midgard. It seemed like ages had passed in that time when, truly, it had been only twenty years since she had jumped into his arms. She did not look a day older than when she had left him, bound for her adopted parents in New York, and ultimately, back into his arms in Asgard.

  
“My Child of Love,” he murmured, opening his arms to the small, slender woman who quickly crossed the ground into them, snuggling close to his bosom. “How are you doing today, Beloved?”

  
She tilted her head up to meet his gaze with a brilliant smile. “I’m doing very well. How are you? Is my youngest sibling treating you well?” One of her delicate, artist hands slid to his stomach, feeling the frantic movement below the purple-veined skin.

  
“It’s very active. Takes after it’s father, and, since it doesn’t have a twin competing for my apparently spacious womb, it’s enjoying the room. Besides that, I am doing very well, thank you.” He wrapped one of his arms around his daughter, the other rubbed the underside of his stomach where the babe was kicking uncontrollably. The closeness made him sigh, a purr rumbling in his chest.

  
“I’ve missed this,” his eldest sighed, “This time with you, just the two of us.” The babe punched her hand, making her laugh her lilting, tinkling laugh. “The two of us plus one.”

  
He leaned his Bergelmir’s Tears against the top of her head as she continued. “I miss snuggling with you in our nest, you’re cool arms around me and your purr lulling me to sleep.”

  
“Do you have plans for the rest of the afternoon?” he asked.

  
“I was thinking about maybe painting, but that could happen any time,” she replied with a smile. “Why, do you?”

  
He chuckled, his ‘ehehehe’ breaking up his purr. “I was thinking of taking a nap after taking a short trip to the bathroom. Would you like to join me?”

  
“Yes!” she practically squealed. “Father-Daughter time!” She squeezed his middle fiercely, a move he reciprocated.

  
“Give me three minutes,” he murmured, placing a kiss on her head, “And I will meet you in the nest.”

  
About three hours later, Thor walked into the bedroom he shared with his husband to find the blue horned man with his arms wrapped around his eldest daughter. His purr rumbled through their room, making the King of Asgard smile. He exited the room quickly and returned a few minutes later, camera in hand, capturing the moment.

 


	43. Chapter 43

  
**Heimdall’s Observatory - Asgard**

  
“So, I’ll see you in a couple of weeks for the nine month check-up, and, by then, I’ll have Mr. High and Mighty okay your staying in the Tower for round two,” Bruce smiled, shaking the tall, blue man’s ridged hand.

  
The Jotunn threw his head back, laughing raucously. “That sounds like a plan, Doctor. I’ll look forward to seeing you then and do give Agent Coulson my best.”

  
The Bifrost pulled their guests back to the Tower and to their lives on Midgard. Thor wrapped his arm around the growing waist of his husband, holding Torsten’s small hand in his larger one while Loki held the hand of Daryn. The twins were sad to see their best friend leaving, waving frantically as the rainbow light whisked him away.

  
Sniffling filled the round space. “Hey, hey,” Aiko whispered, kneeling beside the heir, rubbing his arms lovingly. “None of that, now, darling. Maybe, when Blue goes to Midgard for his next check-up, he could bring you and you could play with Freddie for a few hours.”

  
Her father also knelt, hugging the little curly-haired blonde beside him as her lip quivered. “Of course you may come. I’ll be sure that it’s on a Saturday so you won’t miss any school.” He inhaled sharply, his head jerking up. “We’ll go on the twenty-third. Nothing else is going on that day.” He winked up at his husband. “How does that sound?”

  
“I think that that’s a great idea, Darling,” Thor said, smiling back at him. “I have no other plans, so we should do that.”

  
“But Daddy! Blue! There is something on September 23!” Daryn said, her blue eyes wide with shock.

  
“Yeah, Daddy, Blue! It’s our Name Day!” Torsten said, resting his hand on Thor’s leg.

  
“Oh, no!” Thor feigned. “How could we forget that, Loki?”

  
“I have no idea. It’s not like I labored for fifteen hours trying to push them out of my body,” he replied sarcastically. He turned to fix the twins in his ruby gaze. “What would you like to do for your birthday, Little Ones?”

  
“Um...may I discuss this with my sister?” Tory said, drawing himself up importantly.

  
“Of course, your majesty,” Thor said, bowing his head, a smile on his face. He shot his husband and their eldest child a pair of raised eyebrows. He bit his lower lip to keep from chuckling. The three family members turned their attention to the two youngest members. The Jotunn found them to be utterly precious, their heads pressed together conspiratorially, their whispers carrying around the golden chamber.

  
Finally, their little curly heads popped up, wide smiles on their faces. Daryn’s smile widened. “Daddy. Blue. We have come to a decision,” she said importantly as her brother nodded vigorously. She took a deep breath. “We would like to spend our Name Day on Midgard with Freddie.” They smiled wider, the gaps in their teeth showing.

  
“Ok,” Loki said, ruffling the twins’ hair gently, making sure his claws didn’t get caught. “I think that can be arranged.”  
___________________________________________

  
**Chambers of the All-Father and All-Mother, Bilskirnir - Asgard**

  
He woke to soft kisses peppering his ridges and warm breath on his neck. “Hmmmm,” he hummed, snuggling deeper into his pillow. The kisses continued, moving down his neck as a hot hand wound over his growing stomach, cradling the protrusion as the babe began to waken, stretching his innards and, predictably, planted a foot into his bladder. He hissed, a hand flying to cover his husband’s hand.

  
“Too hot?” a deep baritone, still rough from sleep murmured over his ear, causing him to shiver.

  
“No, you big oaf,” he replied, looping his fingers through the other man’s. “The baby’s found my bladder.”

  
“So much for a lie-in,” Thor muttered, rolling out of the spoon he was giving his life-mate. “Time to get up.”

  
“No, no!” he said, rolling to his other side as quickly as he possibly could, given his added bulk, and grabbed Thor’s arm. “Stay,” he whispered. “Most of the kids are still asleep. Let me pee and then I’ll be back.”

  
Big, blue eyes met his ruby ones, overwhelmingly lovable that he couldn’t handle it. “You promise?” his husband asked with his sleepy morning voice.

  
He leaned in and kissed the other man’s lips softly. “Promise.” He kissed him again and then eased himself out of the nest with a groan. A hand automatically flew to the small of his back while the other rested under the globe of his abdomen. He quickly took care of business and brushed his hair and fangs for good measure. No one liked morning breath.

  
When he reentered the bedroom, his husband was waiting for him, sheets pulled back, waiting for him. “I figured I’d get them as cool as I could because they’re not going to stay that way for long,” the blonde whispered huskily, his voice stirring the Jotunn’s loins into action beneath his sleeping trunks.

  
“Thor,” he murmured, climbing into the nest, “Are you wearing trousers?”

  
“Nope,” his life-mate grinned obnoxiously, patting the bare mattress beside him, his bare chest practically glowing in early morning light that peaked through the grey chiffon curtains.

  
Unable to resist, he slid into the bulky arms of the Thunderer, relishing in the heat. “As much as I would love to follow along the lines of where you, and I, both want this to go, the children could walk in at any time. Let’s not give them a show.” He kissed the blonde man, his fingers playing through his blonde hair, watching the sunrise play through the curls.

  
“Or, we could lock the door...” The offer was tempting, particularly as his lover’s erection brushed his. Both men moaned, their mouths finding each other and mingling their breath, heated and icy melding into loving warmth.

  
The baby within him gave him a rather hard kick to his lungs, returning him to his senses. “No,” he said a bit forcefully, placing a hand on Thor’s lightly haired pectoral. “It’s the twin’s birthday. We can’t lock them out. Not today.” He placed a kiss on the tanned skin, the scent of rain playing at his nostrils.

  
Snuggling into the warm, solid length of the other man, he shifted to accommodate the basketball attached to his body. Thor reciprocated, wrapping his thick arms around him tenderly. “You’re right,” he whispered sliding down his lover’s body to snuggle under the other man’s ridged chin, “As usual.”

  
The Jotunn hummed again, consciously shifting the hum into his resonant purr. Thor shifted a hand down and covered the swollen stomach that rested between his hips. “Baby,” he whispered softly, his blonde head resting on his blue collar bone, “Why don’t you sleep in so your Mummy can finally get more than three hours of sleep at a time? Hmm? Wouldn’t that be nice? Save some of it for when you’re born, so that you can keep me up and Loki can sleep.”

  
The All-Father laughed, his purr hiccuping a bit. “Oh, Darling,” he murmured, resting his cheek on top of his life-mate’s head.

  
“Loki, please,” he whispered sharply, “I’m having a conversation with our child here. Give us a moment.” His lips pressed into the top of his bound right bosom, heating the skin through the soft bandage. “Now, my dearest little angel. Enjoy the warmth in there because December is cold and January is worse. Though, your Jotunn blood will probably not effect that, now that I’m thinking about it. In fact, I’m sure you’ll be outside in your Mum’s arms in the middle of the biggest snow storm of the winter. That’s what he loves to do, even though I think it’s silly. Seeing him stand in the swirling white, hair blowing in the squall, horns thrown back, arms open as if he’s trying to give the storm a hug. It’s when he’s the most beautiful. I hope that you take after him - bold and beautiful.”

  
The blonde continued his conversation with the bump below him, his fingers tracing patterns on the smooth surface. The action lulled the babe and its bearer to sleep, the purring deepening in the early morning light as the Jotunn snuggled deeper into the warmth of the other man.

  
The peacefulness did not last for long, as the twins burst into the bedroom, the door slamming back on its hinges, as they shouted excitedly and clambered into the nest. “Oh, good morning my dearest children,” the King said cheerfully as the man in his arms was roused to wakefulness.

  
His ruby eyes opened groggily to see the shining, beautiful faces of the twins he had carried. “Happiest of Name Days, Daryn and Torsten!” he said brightly, his gruff voice rougher with his quick nap.

  
“What was happening right now on our first Name Day? Do you know?” Daryn asked, wrapping her arms around his lined neck.

 

“Hmm, well, what time is it Darlings?” he asked, feeling his dark-haired copy attempt to wrap his short arms around his stomach with little success.

  
“It’s eight thirty, I think,” the little princess said. “Do you know what you were doing?”

  
He thought back, flipping through the vast catalogue of his memory before finding the most terrifying and perfect day of his life. “Oh, yes,” he recalled softly, shifting to allow the young ones to settle into his side, getting comfortable for his story. “I had been in labor for about six and a half hours at that point. I had given up on sleep by five am and had begun walking aimlessly around the apartment in Avenger’s Tower. It helped with the contractions. Asha had just gotten up, though your mother, your father, and Aiko slept for another hour or so. Asha knew that something was different, but she didn’t say anything. My craving when I was carrying you was scrambled eggs, hot and cheesy. I had told her that I wanted to have some and at eight thirty, I was eating my final plate of scrambled eggs and enjoying every bite of it.” His hands stroked the curly heads before him. “At eleven o’clock, everyone was awake and my water broke, and that’s when we all went to see Uncle Brooze. Your parents stayed outside the room with your grandmother and Aiko, and Asha and Uncle Brooze and I spent the rest of the afternoon in the birthing room where I did a lot of walking back and forth. I said a lot of cruel things that I didn’t really mean because I was in pain and I was exhausted but then, around six thirty, I finally started to push and you both came into the world. Daryn first and then Torsten. I cut your umbilical cords myself and Uncle Brooze and Asha got you all cleaned up and ready to see everyone by seven thirty. What do you think?”

  
“Wow,” the twins breathed in unison before Torsten continued, his little hand planted against his sibling’s foot. “And you liked it so much that you let Daddy give you a special hug so you can do it again?”

  
His eyes locked with Thor’s blue ones, cocking an eyebrow. Truthfully, he was not looking forward to giving birth again. He promised himself, in that moment, that the twins were most certainly not going to witness the birth of their younger sibling. So, he did what his monicker allowed him to do so well. He lied. “Yes, of course.”

  
“YAY!!!” the twins chimed in unison, their arms wrapping more tightly around him. “Now, let’s go to Midgard! Freddie’ll be waiting for us!” They sprang out of bed, yanking at their father’s and bearer’s hands.

  
“Oh, don’t pull!” Thor warned, the sheet slipping dangerously low about his hips. “We’re getting old, and we don’t want to jostle the baby too much!”

  
“Sorry!” the little troublemakers muttered quietly, already halfway out the door. “See you at breakfast.”

  
“Well,” the King said congenially, “Their enthusiasm knows no bounds!”  
_______________________________________________________

  
**Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
When the Bifrost’s rainbow glow parted, the twins broke into a run, pulling their parents behind them in their excitement. Loki’s claws skittered a bit along the slick, metal walkway, making him thankful that, while Torsten was yanking on his right arm, his left was securely wrapped around his husband’s strong waist. “Slow down, Torsten!” he shouted, huffing a bit at the brisk pace that the six year old was taking. “Please! He’s not going anywhere!”

  
The little boy gave him a tiny, shame-faced smile and slowed his pace. “Sorry Blue,” he said, his voice getting carried away in the wind, “I keep forgetting about the baby.”

  
The Jotunn smiled down at the little boy. “It’s alright, Darling. Now, let’s go see Freddie!” The doors swooshed open, JARVIS keeping his eye on everything as always. Once the pair had passed into the penthouse, he released the small hand of the younger twin. The curly headed Asgardians rushed to hug their equally curly-haired friend with shouts and squeals of hello. Just as soon as they had hugged, they rushed off to Freddie’s room to create scenarios involving the Avengers, their parents waving at them as they disappeared into the elevator.

  
Loki leaned into Thor, his horns resting on his life-mate’s head. “They’re so adorable,” he breathed. “How did we raise two kids?”

  
“That’s exactly what we’ve been asking ourselves,” Tony asked, scotch in hand, even though it was only ten o’clock in the morning, leaning casually on the marble topped bar. The rest of the Avengers were sitting around the living room, breakfast plates or cups of coffee in hand. Natasha was sitting on the love seat, her legs thrown over those of her partner, nursing a cup of black coffee while Clint stared at her through blurry eyes, blinking as he yawned over his oatmeal. Steve was shoveling a ridiculous amount of eggs, bacon, and toast into his mouth in a rather unheroic manner. Bruce and Asha were drinking some sort of herbal tea, pouring over their wedding plans. The date had finally been set for the thirtieth of October, and there was so much left to be done.

  
“You had that little faith in us?” Thor asked, leading his life-mate to the well-worn couches. The Jotunn sat down with a slow exhale, a hand under his stomach, the other still wrapped around Thor’s waist.

  
“Thank you, Beloved,” he murmured planting a kiss against his husband’s beard. “However, it is a valid question. Think about it: You were a petulant child when you fell to Midgard thirty years ago, I am a war criminal, and Jane passed away tragically. I wouldn’t have left a pair of two month old twins with us.”

 

“If it makes you feel any better,” the doctor cut in, looking up from the seating arrangements, “I never doubted you.”

  
Loki smiled at the shorter man with the greying hair, reminiscing as memories played through his mind. “Despite our rough first meeting,” he gestured to the glass covered humanoid shape on the floor, “You have never doubted me. Do you remember when I met your smaller, happier person for the first time?”

  
The other man smiled, his brown eyes sparkling. “It was at Aiko’s seventeenth Name Day feast. Gosh, she’s twenty-four!”

  
“Yes, my little girl is all grown-up.” Tears pricked at the corners of his ruby eyes at the thought. “But, while everyone else was ignoring or insulting me in that receiving line, you _smiled_ at me. You actually smiled at me.” He shifted forward excitedly, the baby beginning it’s usual punching and kicking within him.

  
The other man smile widened as he set his glasses down. “I thanked you and then I told you that we owed you.” The man chuckled. “Of course, the next evening you asked me to help you get pregnant.”

  
“Aren’t you glad we had that conversation?!” the Jotunn said excitedly, thinking about the twin terrors downstairs.

  
“Which brings us back to the original question: How the _hell_ did the two of you raise two kids?” Tony had finished his first glass and had moved on to a second.

  
“Easy,” Thor replied, pulling his life-mate into his side, his hand resting over the blue Claws that sat there. He turned to look lovingly into the sparkling two-toned ruby eyes of his Jotunn life-mate. “We loved them equally and told them that they were wonderful, and disciplined them when they needed to be, and we made a family. The six of us, each with our own issues and problems, complete and balance each other.” His full, pink lips met the thin blue lips of his life-mate, a gesture met by mixed reactions of their friends, from ‘awe’ (Asha) to ‘ew’ (Tony).

  
“Shall we begin party planning?” Asha asked, brightly, looking about at her friends. “After all, how often do your kids turn six?”

 


	44. Chapter 44

  
**Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
“Ok, Loki,” the man who housed the Hulk said kindly, patting the faux pink leather pregnancy throne, “You know the drill.”

  
With a roll of his crimson eyes and a quirk of his lips, he shed his loincloth and pulled the hospital gown over his partially naked body. With a bit of effort, he climbed onto the crinkly paper of the awkward seat with stirrups. With a sigh, he smiled at his husband, offering the blonde his clawed hand. Thor took it with a tight lipped smile and a fierce squeeze. He did not like gynecology appointments. He was not a fan of sharing his husband’s most intimate parts, parts that he had attempted to hide from him - his life-mate - with another man. Loki knew that, of course, as did Bruce, and they tried to make the God of Thunder as comfortable as they could for him, even though it wasn’t his appointment.

  
They had already completed the basic physical. He had gained ten pounds, which was much less than he had gained with the twins at this point in his pregnancy. Unlike with the twins, it was all between his ribcage and his pelvic bowl, giving him a strangely round stomach. Everything else was as it was supposed to be. His temperature running a bit higher than normal to balance out the half-Aesir child in his womb, but that was the only change.

  
“Braxton-Hicks?” the mortal asked, StarkPad in hand, having replaced all trace of paper from the Tower years ago.

  
“None,” the blue man responded, rubbing his stomach through the thin linen of his hospital gown. “Though this babe is much more active than the twins. I know that it has to do with all the space but it sucks.”

  
“I’m sorry,” Bruce chuckled.

  
“Yeah, well, you wait until Asha is carrying your children, then you won’t be able to escape it when she leaves your office!” he replied snidely.

  
“Well,” the mortal said, rubbing the back of his neck, “Asha and I probably won’t have children. I can’t risk passing on my - uh - condition.”

  
Loki’s Horns knitted, his brow furrowing as his lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m so sorry, Bruce. How insensitive of me.” Thor squeezed his hand comfortingly. The Jotunn made himself a promise that he was going to help his good friend have children with the woman he loved. There had to be some sort of spell that could cancel the effects of gamma radiation in sperm or one that eliminated undesirable traits in unborn children. He would find it or invent it himself, but soon there would be a little Bruce Banner/Asha running about Avenger’s Tower.

  
He swung his legs up into the stirrups with a huff, exposing his loins to the grey-haired man. “It’s not a problem, Loki,” he smiled reassuringly, flicking on the flashlight and inserting the expanding device as Thor grumbled. “Asha and I weren’t planning on kids anyway.”

The other man smile sadly, obviously wanting something that he thought he couldn’t have.

  
_We shall see about that, good doctor_ , the All-Father thought, a small smile on his lips.

  
“Whelp, everything looks great down here. No signs of labor, or distress of any kind. Nice and moist. We’re all good.” He ran his gloved hands over the external genitalia and over his bulge, pressing gently. “Gosh, this little one is certainly active! I am so sorry about that. Who knew that carrying the child of the All-Mighty Thor would involve going nine rounds with Rocky Balboa?!”

  
The two aliens looked at each other and shrugged, not understanding the reference. The Jotunn slowly lowered his legs and eased off the pregnancy throne, grabbing his loincloth off the chair and sliding it up his legs, tying it around his waist, thankful that he could still do it for himself.

  
Pulling the hospital gown off his oddly shaped frame, exposing the round stomach to the harsh florescent lighting of the room, he climbed back up onto the pink contraption. His clawed hands deftly unwound the soft breast band from his full bosom. Bruce carefully palpitated his new acquisitions, easing colostrum from each breast. The doctor wiped the thick liquid off the sensitive skin with a soft, muttered apology.

  
“This is always so awkward,” the blue man muttered rebinding his chest allowing the fabric to soak up the leftover milk residue. “It’s a love-hate relationship. One the one hand, they ache and leak and get in the way. They feminize me. On the other, they will provide sustenance for this child, and this one,” he elbowed Thor gently, “Likes them.” The three men chuckled, Thor turning a rather vibrant shade of scarlet. Once his breasts were bound, his life-mate grabbed his hand again, a wide grin on his broad face.

  
“Alright,” his husband said excitedly, “Time to see the baby, right?”

  
“Yes, of course,” the mortal doctor said, chuckling a bit under his breath. He pulled the ultrasound machine over and squirted the warm, teal gel onto the globe of his stomach. The fluttery heartbeat filled the room, making Loki bow his horns at the sound. The image flashed up on the screen, black and white perfection. “So, if I were going by human standards, you’re about six months along in fetal development. The baby is about fourteen inches in length, but not very chunky. No fat deposits yet, but those will come. After all, we’ve got three more months, right? All in all, a very healthy baby.”

  
A soft knocking at the door roused the three adults back to reality. “Can we see the baby, too?” shouted the bold princess through the thick wood of the door.

  
“Please?!” her twin added.

  
Loki nodded, tears flooding his eyes as the image of the life he carried was illuminated on the screen. “Of course,” the Thunderer responded, leaving his husband’s side to open the door to their soon to be middle children.

  
The twins walked in quietly, whispering to themselves, one hand in one of their father’s large, tanned hands. Thor settled them onto his lap so that they could see the screen and it’s flickering and moving image. “Now, if you ask nicely, Uncle Brooze will tell you what you’re seeing,” the large blonde whispered, almost conspiratorially into their little ears.

  
“Uncle Broozy,” Torsten began, “Can we see our little sibling, please?”

  
“I think we can do that,” the older man said, shifting the wand over the rounded, blue expanse. “Let’s see here. Oh, here’s it’s head and face. It’s not looking at the camera right now so we can see it’s profile. It looks like it has it’s bearer’s nose. Really straight. And if I shift it this way - Look!” The twins gasped. The baby was waving it’s hand at them. Of course, what it was actually doing was beating the side of Loki’s liver, but the Jotunn was not going to say anything about it.

  
“It’s so pretty,” Daryn murmured, her eyes doe-like and so in love.

  
“It’s really big!” the heir exclaimed, following the movement of the wand as it traced the length of the unborn infant’s body. “Aren’t you worried about it getting out, Blue?”

  
“No, Darling,” he whispered, voice cracking slightly with the tumult of emotions that played through him. “You were much bigger. It’ll come out just fine, when he or she is ready.” He beamed at his family, reaching his claws out to stroke their curly heads one by one.

  
“I can’t wait to meet it!” Daryn said excitedly, bouncing on her father’s lap.

  
“Me neither! Then we can teach it to do all sorts of things, right Blue? Like drawing and fencing and we can play games and tag and Avengers!” The black curls of the heir waved wildly as the little boy grew more and more excited.

  
“Not for a few years, Darlings,” Thor said quietly, calming the twins down. “Babies can’t do a lot of things that big kids like you can. The new baby will be doing a lot of sleeping and eating for a while before you can teach it all of those things.”

  
“Well,” the princess said, a large smile on her flushed face, “I still can’t wait!” 

“Neither can we, Princess,” the Jotunn replied, stroking her cheek with the rough pad of his thumb. “Neither can we.”  
____________________________________________

  
The surprise party had gone off without a hitch. The appointment had given the Avengers and the rest of their Aesir family time to arrange everything in the Penthouse. The cakes were brought in, with plenty of chocolate ice cream for the pregnant Jotunn, and all of the twin’s favorite foods, including, much to Thor’s delight, Poptarts. Frigga and Loki had insisted that vegetables and fruits would be included on the buffet table, so the option was there, though both doubted that the kids would eat any of it. The presents were stacked along one of the far walls, the room was strewn with brightly colored ribbons and crepe paper. Fafnir and Opie were running about excitedly, chasing each other through the suited up Avengers, as requested by the twins.

  
The final part of the party was what worried Loki to no end. The twins insisted that they were old enough to be heroes, despite the fact that their own father hadn’t campaigned until he was nearly two hundred and that the superhero business was relatively new to him still, as he was well into his second millennium. The Avengers had assembled in the conference room on the seventieth floor, wondering how they could orchestrate a ‘save-the-day’ situation for a pair of demi-gods and the child of the top assassins in the world without putting them at risk.

  
In the earlier meeting, the heroes had gone through many options ranging from boring to ridiculous. Eventually, Loki raised his voice over the discussion. “I will do it.”

  
“What?” Thor asked, looking up from his notes. “What will you do?”

  
The blue man smirked, rubbing his stomach to calm the baby he carried. “I am the only one among us who is well-versed in villainy. I will do it. I will orchestrate an attack, render you incapable of stopping me, and let the little one’s win. It’s simple, really. I can’t believe that I didn’t think of it before.”

  
His husband sucked in a sharp breath, covering his Claws with a large, hot hand. “You don’t have to do that, Loki. Not when your villainy was false to begin with.” His large, puppy eyes met his resolved gaze.

  
“I like it,” Natasha said, fixing the couple in her gaze. “Clint, go get your NERF guns. We’re going to lose to a criminal with a bag of cats for a brain.” She clapped her hands and her partner hopped over the couch, scrambling out of the conference room with a whoop.

  
“So, now I get to lose to a pregnant man?” the Man of Iron whined with a huff. “Who’d have ever thought?”

  
Once the party was in full swing, Loki swirled his siedr together to create a firework. The bright light subsided for the children to find all of the adults frozen in place and the blue man vanished. He was still there, of course, just shielded from their eyes with a simple invisibility spell.

  
“Ehehehe!” he cackled breathily, projecting his voice about the room in an aural illusion. “Now that the Avenger’s are out of the way, I am free to rule Midgard! Ehehehe!”

  
The kids looked about, terrified before Torsten, the obvious leader of the group shouted, “NOT TODAY VILLAIN! AVENGERS - _ASSEMBLE_!”

  
Smiling at the cuteness of it all, Loki was glad that he was invisible. All of his spooky, scary evilness would have vanished. “What makes you, small beings, think that you can defeat me- the great and powerful Loki of Jotunnheim?”

  
“We will work it out!” Freddie said, hands akimbo with his chest puffed out. “JARVIS! Get me all the info you can on this _Loki of Jotunnheim_ and the best way to defeat an invisible enemy.”

  
_Well, Sir,_ the A.I. began, _Loki of Jotunnheim has been the scourge of the Nine realms since his failed attempt at conquering Midgard nearly thirty years ago. He can create duplicates of himself as well as others. He wields ice and various forms of magic very effectively. He can become invisible at will._

  
“But how do we defeat him?” Daryn asked, straight to business.

  
_Agent Thordottir_ , JARVIS answered, _His weakness is warm hugs and chocolate ice cream. To find him while he is invisible, you must first find his greatest weakness._

  
“His greatest weakness...his greatest weakness...his greatest weakness,” the heir thought, rubbing his chin. “Think guys! What could be his greatest weakness?”

  
“Well,” the red-head said, matter-of-factly, “Maybe we should concentrate on unfreezing the grown-ups first. That way, there will be more people running around and less space for him to hide!”

  
“Great idea, Freddie!” Torsten said, smiling as his twin nodded brightly.

  
“But how will we do that?” Daryn asked. She wandered over to a frozen Thor, wrapping her small hand in his. “I wish you could help us Daddy.”

  
The rest of the mini-Avengers gathered around Thor and, incidentally, bumped straight into Loki. He grabbed the two that were closest to him, Freddie and Torsten, and made himself visible. “I’ve got you now!” he hissed maniacally. “You will never defeat me!”

  
“Take this!” Daryn yelped, kicking him soundly in the shin before stamping down on the high, rounded instep of his other foot.

  
He quickly set the other two children down gently on the slate floor, glad that his daughter’s attack, while fierce, had not really hurt that much. He faked it well, though, falling to one knee and then the other with a groan. The two boys joined in, punching his arms but avoiding his stomach and his bound breasts, something he was immeasurably thankful for. “Oh, no you don’t!” he cried. “I cannot be defeated by violence!”

  
“Right!” the heir said. “What was it that JARVIS told you, Freddie?”

  
“Hugs and chocolate ice cream!” Freddie and Daryn chimed in in unison.

  
The three kids jumped on top of him, their arms wrapping around any part of his body that they could reach. “Oh,” he breathed, his evil snarl lessening, “What’s this? I-I feel so strange. Like my heart is melting... Oh...it’s so weird.” He let his arms snake around the three kids, molding them into his body and around the ever-active baby. “I think I might like it.”

  
“If you like this, you can get more and some ice cream if you help melt our parents and aunts and uncles,” Daryn bargained.

  
“Well, that is awful tempting,” he said, squeezing the three of them tighter. “What if you help me and then we can all eat cake and ice cream and open presents together?”

  
“We could do that,” Torsten said, the other two nodding their agreement.

  
“Just as you defeated me, you can release them from the spell that I placed on them,” he said. “Hugs for everyone!”

  
“Yay!” the kids yelled, fists pumping the air as they scattered, hugging the adults, one after the other. Thor instantly enveloped his children into his strong arms.

  
“You saved me!” he cried. “I thought that I was going to be frozen forever!” The kids gave him kisses on his cheeks and moved on, hugging Avengers as they went. His blonde head swiveled to the blue man who was kneeling on the floor, one hand under his stomach. “Darling,” he murmured, offering his hand, “You were wonderful.”

  
Loki smiled, chuckling as he accepted the large, calloused hand of his life-mate. “Oh, the dastardly villain that I am.” He was grateful for the help getting off the floor, his lower back aching and his balance off-kilter due to the ten pound bowling ball between his hips. “Brought low by hugs and the promise of ice cream.”

  
The Thunderer pulled his cool body into his heated torso, his arms wrapping around his lower back, the heat helping to ease the pain that constantly pulsed there. “Up to your old mischief, I see,” the other man whispered into his azure ear, causing him to shiver in the warmth.

  
“Have you missed it, you big oaf?” He ghosted a finger through his lover’s beard as he nipped at the other man’s earlobe. “Mischief and chaos can always be arranged.”  
_____________________________________________________

  
The party continued long into the night, well after the exhausted little heroes were tucked into their warm beds with bellies full of junk food, sugar and, much to Loki’s delight, fruits and vegetables. Soft music played through JARVIS’s sound system as the Avengers and the royals chatted, cups of coffee or tea clutched in hands or held on laps. Aiko was showing off her extensive collection of photos that she had snapped through the day to Steve, who had recently taken up photography himself. Natasha and Clint sat on one arm chair, entwined in each other’s tired arms and drinking out of each other’s coffee cups. Tony was fiddling with his StarkPad and muttering to himself as he worked on a set of blueprints for his newest suit of armor, one that could go toe to toe with the Hulk. Bruce and Asha were sitting by the fire, his arm around her shoulder as her head rested against his cheek, eyes closed. Frigga chatted with them, catching them up on the comings and goings of Asgard that the former healer had missed since her last visit.

  
Loki and Thor spun slowly in circles, their hands pressed into the small of the other’s back, fingers entwined as their foreheads rested on the other’s shoulder so that they danced cheek to cheek. Ridges rubbing against hair, cold mingling with hot. It was the first dance they had never had, their wedding feast being a rather quick dinner with only half of the wedding attendees participating. There had been no dancing, no week long entertainments. In the end, it had been brief, dinner then the consummation, nothing fancy. But Loki liked this, the intimate closeness that he had with Thor as they spun, alone in a room full of people. In his mind, it was perfection.

 


	45. Chapter 45

  
**Lesser Hall - Asgard**  
The Jotunn rubbed his stomach thoughtfully, watching his students as they chanted, manipulating their seidr to light the candles placed in front of them on their workbenches. Some had only the one while others had two or three. Some of his older students, or the students who were more drawn to fire magic, had five or six candles. He smiled, watching the children. Some of them looked cool and collected, their hands splayed with their various seidrs playing among their finger tips. Others concentrated hard, biting their lips or furrowing their brows in concentration. Their flames sputtered, blinking in and out of existence as did their spotty seidr. Eventually, with much toil and labor, every student had at least one candle lit.

  
“All right, students,” he said quietly and calmly, “Time is up. Please leave your candles burning. Nice work today, everyone. You should be proud of your accomplishments. I know that I am.” Exhausted students from the Nine slowly got up from their seats and grabbed their books. The room filled with the sound of chairs scraping and voices murmuring, comparing their work and discussing their experiences.

  
He stood with a soft groan, supporting his growing stomach with a clawed hand, leaning back for balance. As the students filed out, he moved from workbench to workbench, making notes of each student’s progress and extinguishing their candles with a soft wave of his hand.

  
“All-Father,” a soft, familiar voice called from the doorway. He looked up, finding Princess Nadezhda standing in the doorway of the hall.  
“Princess Nadezhda,” he replied, his brow crinkled, “What can I help you with?”

  
She bit the inside of her cheek and took a couple of steps back into the classroom. “I couldn’t help but wonder if we’re going to do anything besides light candles before the end of term? Before you...”

  
He smiled kindly and took a couple steps towards the shorter girl. “Princess, you just completed an examination on basic fire spells. You’ll start water next week.” He rubbed the top of his stomach gently. It had popped out since his last trip to Midgard, the baby still rolling about as they both gained weight. “The class should finish with water before the end of term. Fire in considerably more difficult to master, which is why I started with that. The Queen Mother will be here to teach you next week. She is a wonderful teacher - she was mine, after all.”

  
The young woman smiled brightly, though it was masking something else. “Oh, why didn’t you tell us that this was your last day?” she asked, her smile slipping.

  
He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “I did not wish to make a scene over it.” He walked over to the girl, glad that he wasn’t waddling quite yet. “I need to nest before the baby comes.”

  
The Elf looked up at him with her bright eyes. “Then, thank you, All-Father. For everything.” She dipped into a curtsey and skipped into the hallway, shouting for her friends to wait for her, her pounding footsteps retreating.

  
Sighing and shaking his horns, the Jotunn returned to his task. His parchment filled with results as candles extinguished and the heat thrown by the flames receded. He hummed as he worked, his steady motions rocking the babe within him, calming it’s frantic movements.

  
“Loki.” He finished with his final workbench and turned to face the owner of the rich baritone that had spoken.

  
“Thor,” he stated, vanishing the parchment and quill with a distracted wave when he saw his husband’s face. He looked like a lost puppy that had been kicked, his eyes morose and his lower lip trembling. “What’s wrong?” he asked his brow knitting through his soft smirk. “You look like someone ate all of your candy or told you that unicorns don’t exist.”

  
The blonde stepped forward, gently taking his left hand in both of his, spinning the thin gold band on the ring finger. “Unicorns _do_ exist,” he mumbled, not making eye contact, simply watching the band spin.

  
“Yes, I know, you big oaf,” he chuckled, smiling. “We rode them on Vanaheim over a hundred years ago.” He raised his right hand from underneath his stomach and ran his claws gently through the golden hair of the other man, running his fingers around the man’s ear and through the scruffy beard. Gingerly, he tilted the King’s chin so that his blue eyes met his ruby orbs. “What is it, Thor?”

  
The taller man licked his lips and gulped. “You need to wait a few more days before you leave.”

  
The Jotunn’s Horns knitted, his eyes growing confused as he blinked rapidly. “Is there a reason behind that?”

  
“We had an incident today in the training ring,” the Thunderer explained, his eyes earnest. “The students do not understand why Ren insists on using an ice blade or why he refuses armor. They ganged up on him today before practice, before any of us arrived.”

  
His eyes flew open wide and he knew that his mouth was hanging open. Thor raised a large hand. “He’s fine,” his husband reassured him. “Ren is more than capable of taking care of himself. A couple of minor cuts and bruises. He refused to go to the healers until after class. The healers are tending to him now.”

  
He relaxed a little, the baby calming within him as he realized that the danger had passed. “You want me to perform another lecture,” he whispered, raising his eyebrows knowingly.

  
“Well, yes,” the larger man said, winding the hand he held around his back as he stepped into his rounded body, bending around it to the best of his ability. “And I wouldn’t mind having my husband here a little while longer.” The King’s full, warm lips met his pliable blue pair, kissing him lovingly.

  
Breaking the kiss, the All-Father smiled. “I think that that can be arranged.”  
___________________________________________________________

  
The hall was packed, full of community members, parents, and faculty along with the invited students. Loki sat calmly, one hand tracing the foot the was pushing outward from his stomach, the baby giving him strength. This time was no easier than the first time, he was still terrified and worried about the gathered assembly. Did they like him? Did they loath him? Would they believe what he said? Would they retaliate? Would this do _anything_ in the long run?

  
He sighed, shifting in his seat as the baby attempted to rest on his bladder. He hummed softly under his breath. “Not now, you little terror,” he mumbled, his eyes still scanning the growing audience. In a slightly louder voice, he turned to look at his husband. “Thor, how many people are supposed to be here? I thought that this was for the students.”

  
The other man shrugged, grinning while grimacing. “It is,” he said through clenched teeth, his smile obviously plastered on. He placed a large hand on the his bare shoulder, a finger tracing his Mantle and mate mark. The hum subconsciously shifted to a soft purr.

  
The sound cut through the suddenly silent auditorium. Loki looked up, eyes wide with fright, his purr cutting to a halt. What seemed like a thousand pairs of eyes were staring at him with various emotions and affects playing through their features. The Jotunn could feel his face slowly fall, the intimate moment that he had been having with his husband was ruined by the public reaction. Slowly, emerging from the crowd, came a single hand.

  
“Yes?” Thor asked, breaking the silence, his hand still firmly and protectively on his life-mate’s shoulder.

  
The voice was hesitant and small, obviously worried about the invasive nature of the question they were about to ask. “What...was that?”

  
Loki swallowed, biting his lips before answering. “That, for lack of a better term, was a purr. It’s rather involuntary though it usually occurs when I’m happy or comfortable or content or, um...trying to provide comfort....um, something along those lines. I believe that it’s an instinct that was developed to quiet babies - that’s when it first started, when I was pregnant with the twins. I understand that it’s strange but, in all honesty, my family loves it, so I don’t question it. It’s part of me and that’s that.”

  
He smiled a little, raising a hand to cover Thor’s heated touch. More hands shot up, the audience skipping his lecture entirely, something that he was completely fine with. He found another hand and pointed, calling out, “Yes!”

  
“So, you’re obviously pregnant.” Loki cocked an eyebrow at the statement as the asker continued, “Why are you putting the child at risk by continuing to train?”

  
“Oh,” the blue man said, surprised. “That was a very different question than I expected it to be. The honest answer to your question is that it is good, healthy exercise. I take precautions and my sparring partners are obviously aware of my condition. The child is not in harms way. I must also say that my bearer birthed me while fighting in the last Great War. Mind you, given my diminutive stature, he wasn’t even showing, but still, at full term, he fought along side his people. That is something that I am prepared to do, and something that I would do, should the need arise.”

  
Another question floated through the air, not called upon. “Can you explain why it’s okay that you married your _brother_?”

  
Thor’s hand tightened on his shoulder as his face fell. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. When he had collected and organized his thoughts, the King had already started speaking.

  
“I understand that this is a bit new, but look at the two of us - there is no possibility of us being actual brothers. We were raised together, Loki’s glamour firmly in place, and we believed in our brotherhood. It was something that we firmly believed until he Fell. That is when Odin All-Father told me the truth and I realized that, while it seemed impossible for me to not only befriend a Jotunn, I loved him as a brother. When I lost Jane, the only person who could bring me any sort of comfort was the Jotunn that my parents had adopted. That was when I realized that my feelings for Loki were more than what I had originally thought.”

  
Loki’s brow knit. “I didn’t know that,” he said, looking up at his life-mate cocking his head. “You never told me.” He smiled, turning back to the assembly, he continued from his perspective. “The Jotunn are the only species of the Nine that find their partners based off of love alone. That is why they are called life-mates. They live by the belief that everyone’s perfect other half is out there and that, once that person, usually a Jotunn, is found, a few things begin to happen. Firstly, they begin to smell the distinct scent of other Jotunn, or person, everywhere they go, no matter if they are in the same room, in the same city, in the same realm. It is always present, like a perfume. Then, if it is not acted upon, the Jotunns’ gums will begin to ache when brought into contact with their potential life-mate. That is because the life-mate ceremony, which occurs instead of a marriage, involved ritualistic marking of one’s mate with your teeth.” He traced the scar inflicted upon his clavicle by Thor tenderly.

  
“Mine’s covered by my clothing at the moment,” the King chuckled, “But it’s here.” His finger traced his shoulder where the perfectly ovular bite mark resided. The Jotunn patted his hand that still rested on his shoulder.

  
“Anyway,” the All-Father continued, “That is how we can be married. We are not related, we love each other, and, thanks to my Jotunn biology, we know that we are meant to be together and that is how we will stay. Thor is my life-mate, it’s something that we both realized years ago, it just took us a while to act upon it. Next question.”

  
Thor chose the next hand. “So explain the ice thing.”

  
“The ice _thing_ ,” the Jotunn said slowly. “The legend is that the first Jotunn was born of winter, from the vast storm that shrouds the world. Because we are created from winter, we are all born with the ability to wield ice. It manifests itself around the age of one hundred and then it is trained. One must learn to channel the ice so that accidents won’t happen, such as unwanted burning due to the Withering Touch or accidental ice weapon creation. Once it can be channeled, it is then honed. If you’re very well-versed in the creation of things from the ice, you are able to release it from your body and hold it in your hands, instead of having it coat them. The reason ice weapons are used is because horns are impractical and the Jotunn dislike fire, so forged weapons are not created on Jotunnheim. The ability to create and wield your own weapons is a sign of adulthood in the Jotunn community, which is why myself and others who carry this seidr prefer to manifest our own weapons when training or in battle.”

  
“NEXT,” boomed the King, choosing another hand.

  
“Yes, um I just was wondering about the biology behind your pregnancy.”

  
“That’s a rather intimate question,” Loki replied, his gaze flickering to the twins as they sat cheerfully oblivious in the front row. “As the twins learned recently, when two people love each other very much, and they get married or find their life-mate, they can do something very special. If they hold each other really tightly, sometimes, if they’re lucky, their love will make a baby inside one of them. It will grow and grow until it’s big enough to survive outside of it’s bearer, and then it’s born.”

  
The comment drew a laugh from the gathering, the populace amused by the explanation of sexual intercourse given to a pair of six year olds. Loki smiled, raising his hands. “There are books in the library that you are welcome to borrow if you want anything more graphic or specific than that.”

  
“Moving along,” Thor said awkwardly. “Is there another question?” He found another hand and pointed to it, saying, “Yes, you.”

  
A soft, but flutey voice lifted above the crowd. Loki recognized it instantly. Princess Nadezhda said, “It’s not a question, but a comment: I just wanted to say that I am very happy for you both and your new addition that is on the way. I hope that I speak for the students in the All-Father’s class, we are really glad to have learned from you All-Father. We are so glad that you are taking time out of your busy schedule of ruling the Nine - something that you are very good at - to teach a bunch of beginning sorcerers. So, thank you.”

  
He smiled softly, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He blinked rapidly, sniffling a bit. “You are very welcome, Princess. It has been my pleasure to watch you and your classmates grow as well as defend the Nine. It is more than I could have ever dreamt, especially after I Fell.”

  
Thor’s hand, still resting on his Mantle, gave the area, now heated from his furnace-like body heat, a loving squeeze. Loki smiled up at him, his white fangs flashing in the light of the sconces. The smile was returned by the tall, handsome blonde. Simultaneously, the two men faced their audience and asked, “Next question?”

 


	46. Chapter 46

  
**Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
He sat, stroking his rounded abdomen, listening to the conversation that surrounded him. The Avenger’s had made him welcome, unlike on his last little trip to the maternity ward of the Tower six years previous. The leather of Stark’s well-worn couch was cool against his ridges, comforting in the warmth of the room. Tony was sitting with an arm around Pepper, his assistant turned CEO made young by the billionaire’s surprisingly selfless decision to give her some of his apples, the whiskey that he was nursing in his other hand. Clint and Natasha were sitting upon each other in an arm chair, limbs intertwined as they were wont to do, making it difficult to decided where one ended and the other began. Bruce was sitting beside his fiancée, his hand resting gently on her thigh, a thumb playing over her knee as she rested her head on his shoulder. Even the virgin Captain had found himself a partner. Lorelei was their newest addition to their gathering, her fingers laced between those of the soldier. Seeing the pair together made him smile, glad that the newly woman and the man out of time had found each other in their alternate timelines.

  
It did, however, make him feel very alone. Thor had remained on Asgard, caring for their children, both literally and figuratively, the Nine carrying only slightly less importance than the young woman and the curly headed twins that dwelt within Bilskirnir. The baby, a little part of Thor, fluttered within his womb, rolling, punching, and kicking. The action, while painful, made him feel a little less homesick, but only a little. He longed for his life-mate’s firm, warm arms surrounding his thin, blue shoulders, his beard tickling his ridges. Unfortunately for him, Thor had a kingdom to run and eight others to oversee in his absence, and he had a baby to nurture and boredom to foster.

  
He felt the eyes of the ex-sorceress on him, her eyes flickering over his form before dropping to the floor and slowly finding their ways back to his blue, swollen body. She had been filled in, all knowledge of Asgard eliminated when her Aesir essence and seidr was stripped from her, and yet her curiosity could not be contained. He fixed his gaze on her face, making eye contact with his unsettling ruby orbs.

  
She flushed scarlet, matching his eye shade almost precisely. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, looking at her lap.

 

“It’s alright,” he said with a tight lipped smile. “I’m used to being stared at. It’s a common occurrence where I come from. An alien among aliens.” His claws stroked his stomach, rubbing the baby’s foot as it pressed outward as if trying to escape it’s confinement. He shifted uncomfortably as the little one settled onto his bladder. “Where did you say you were from, Lorelei?”

  
“I grew up in Brooklyn,” she said with a wistful smile on her face, “With my older sister and my Dad. He passed on a couple of years ago, right after my sister and I joined SHIELD.”

  
“Am I right to assume that that is how you met our dear Captain?” the Jotunn responded, tilting his head to the side in interest. His spell was holding, the woman living a full life, even if it differed from what she had already endured.

  
“Yes,” she beamed, meeting the shy, crooked smile of her blonde haired, blue eyed, all-American boy. “It was four months ago. I had clumsily dropped a bunch of files in the elevator and had missed my floor trying to collect them, when he got on at the gym. He was the only person who stopped to help me.”

  
“And she was just so beautiful, I couldn’t help but come to her aid,” the super soldier smiled.

  
“Steven,” the Jotunn said with a smile, “We all know that you would have stopped regardless of what she looked like. I’m assuming that you asked her if you could court her based on her physical attributes.”

  
“Well, maybe you’re right,” the blonde murmured, leaning in and kissing his girl. “She certainly is beautiful.”

  
A gaping hole punched it’s way into his chest. He missed Thor, a fact emphasized by his lack of a plus one at this suddenly intimate gathering. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m a bit tired from my journey. I’m going to call it a night.” He rose, receiving a chorus of good night’s from the assembly and walked to the elevator.

  
“Hold up a minute, TARDIS,” the inventor called, jogging over from the couch, his whiskey still in his hand, sloshing about his glass. “We can ride together.”

  
“Um...sure.” He stepped to the side, anything but sure about riding in the metal death trap with the Avenger who liked him least. They stepped inside, the Jotunn making a point of moving to the far corner of the box. “Please get my button for me, Stark.”

  
“Not yet, Jack Frost. I’m going to cheer you up first,” the man smiled around his glass. “JARVIS, take us to the workshop.”

  
_Right away, Sir_ , the AI responded, the elevatory promptly moving to the nonexistent floor two stops below the Penthouse.

  
“Why are you doing this, Tony?” Loki breathed, wrapping his hands around his stomach, shielding the baby, just in case. To say that he trusted the Man of Iron as far as he could throw him was an overstatement. They both knew from experience that he could throw him pretty far - out a window.

  
The doors opened, revealing the most amazing technology the All-Father had ever seen. His jaw dropped, his fangs showing. “As I said,” a hot hand clapped him on the shoulder, “I’m going to cheer you up.”

  
He was pushed forward by the shorter man, his claws instantly clicking on the polished cement. “JARVIS, make a note. Loki is welcome here anytime during his stay, so long as he doesn’t damage anything major.”

  
_As I recall, Sir, the only one that tends to damage anything major in here is you_.

  
“Love you too, J!” The man waved about jovially. “Welcome to your new playground, Reindeer Games. This is where _my_ magic happens.”

  
His Horns furrowed. “Thank you for this, but...why? Why now?”

  
The man’s goatee became serious. “Honestly, I’d have to be blind to not notice how you’re hurting right now. I mean, come on man, you’re wearing Thor’s kicked puppy look like it’s the latest fashion. I can’t get him here for you, so I figured that you need a distraction, hence, my workshop. You’ve been wanting in this place since, what? Thirty years ago? Anyway.” He shrugged, his hands falling to his sides with a loud, echoing slap.

  
“Thank you, Tony,” Loki whispered, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “This is such a kindness. I-I don’t know what to say.”

  
“Nah, now I’d say we’re square,” the inventor said, moving off into the vastness of his workshop, lights flickering on as he moved and revealing all of his projects. “You did give me those magic apples of eternal youth or whatever.” He picked up a wrench and spun back around, jostling it in his hand. “And I mean it about the breaking things!”

  
“I will respect your wishes, but now I am going to go to bed. Have a lovely evening, Stark.” He clicked back to the elevator and pushed the button for the Asgardian floor, letting the tears fall and freeze along his ridges.

  
Reaching his apartment, he threw an orb of light into the center of room, not wanting to use electricity, feeling homesick. He was grateful to Tony for allowing him access to his workshop - it would serve as a wonderful distraction over the coming months, however, he just wanted Thor, holding him with his heat covering him and wrapping around him securely in love.

  
He walked through the apartment, the orb floating before him, the emptiness making him feel small and insignificant. Once he had reached the master bedroom, he pulled open Thor’’s drawers and pulled out one of his worn t-shirts. Tenderly, he rubbed the fabric in his hands before raising it to his nose and giving it a sniff. It increased the perfume of Thor that followed him everywhere, giving him strength. With a sigh, he carefully fitted it over his horns and onto his body. His stomach was ballooning now, but the shirt made it seem smaller, the fabric flowing over it instead of being stretched. He smiled, rubbing the roundness through the shirt. The baby squirmed happily against his touch. Settling down into the center of his nest, he summoned his scrying bowl and manifested a block of ice in it, searching for Thor.

  
_His husband was tucking the little one’s into bed, though how they were going to sleep after the rambunctious bedtime story they were receiving, he had no idea. Thor was throwing himself about, his body plopping onto Daryn’s pink bed like a fish before jumping up and looking all heroic, waving Mjölnir about dramatically. The kids giggled at his antics, causing him to become more engrossed in the tale._

  
_“It was then that Fandral toppled head first into the sticky, squishy mud.” He fell to the floor as if he was being dragged down by a heavy weight. “We all tried different ways of getting him out. I tried flying over and grabbing his hand, but the momentum took me overhead too fast. Volstagg tried handing him his ax handle and pulling him free, but the handle was too short. Hogun tried a branch with no success. Sif tried using a rope and pulling him out but all four of us, with our combined strengths, could do nothing. It was then that Loki stepped forward with his knowing smirk-” He mimed the smirk to near perfection. “And reached out his finger - just one-” He held up a finger. “And tapped it onto the edge of the mud!” He placed the finger on the bed, between the enraptured twins. “Slowly, but surely, the mud turned into solid ground.” He smiled._

  
_“What then, Daddy?” Torsten asked, his eyebrows furrowed._

  
_“Well, then Uncle Fandral was stuck, upside down in the dirt and we had to dig him out with spades!” He laughed, that booming, thunderous laugh from his gut that Loki loved. “And that, children, is why you should always bring a sorcerer with you on adventures to Nifleheim.”_

_“Just Nifleheim, Daddy?” Daryn asked quietly, her eyes wide and impossibly blue - just like her father._

  
_“Well, I like having one all the time. That way I know that I will make it home safe to you.” His smile softened tenderly. “Are you going to stay with your sister tonight, Tory?”_

  
_The heir nodded vigorously, hugging his sister tightly about the shoulders. The All-Mother smiled. “Good night my precious Daryn and my valiant Torsten.” He placed kisses on their lips and brows. “Don’t let the bilgesnipe bite.”_

  
_The lights dimmed as he exited the room. “Daddy,” came the hesitant voice of the heir. The Thunderer turned around._

  
_“Yes, Tory?”_

  
_“Will the monsters get us tonight?” His husband’s brow furrowed._

  
_“No, darling. Nor any other night. Not so long as you have each other and your stuffies. You do have Spike, do you not?”_ (Spike was the name of Torsten’s stuffed bilgesnipe toy) _._

  
_“Of course!”  “He will protect you,” the blonde murmured, “I promise.”_

_“But what about you, Daddy?” This time it was Daryn._

  
_“What about me, my Jewel?” His mouth quirked slightly._

  
_“Who protects you from the monsters when Blue isn’t there to scare them away?”_

  
_He chuckled goodnaturedly. “What makes you think that Blue scares the monsters away and I don’t?”_ The Jotunn could practically hear the eye roll from the kids here on Midgard.

  
_“Daddy.”_

  
_“Fine, darlings,” he replied with a sigh. “Fafnir will protect me from the monsters, I promise. Now go to sleep. You have school tomorrow.”_

  
_“Good night, Daddy,” came Torsten’s voice._

  
_“We love you,” whispered Daryn’s._

  
_“I love you too.” His life-mate’s smile took on a sad quality as he walked away from the door, closing it until only a sliver remained open. He sighed heavily as he treaded through Bilskirnir to their shared apartments before stopping and thinking better of it. He turned into the last door on the right and looked about him._

  
_The room was his, or at least it had been for most of his life. Thor sniffled a bit at the lack of books and academic clutter that had littered the sitting room and walked about the furniture, touching each piece as he passed. When he reached the bedroom he stared at the bed, back to the normal, flat one, and cocked his head slightly at the sight of it. As if it seemed out of place. He quickly turned around and exited, entering their rooms and striding purposefully into their bed chamber. He clambered into the nest, his hands groping in the dark until the found what they were looking for._

  
_His emerald robe._ He must have left it there in the morning and forgotten to pack it. Now, watching his husband wrap a pillow in it and bury his nose into it, he was glad that he had.

 


	47. Chapter 47

  
“How are you today, Loki?” Bruce asked, pushing back from his lab table with a smile. “You look great.”

  
“Stop lying, Doctor Banner,” the blue man smirked morosely. “You know my monicker.” He smirked, a fang hanging over his lower lip as he chuckled. “And I can look in a mirror.” He shook his head, his hair, a rats nest at it’s best, flopping dejectedly at the nape of his neck and against his cheeks. It was in that awkward, in between stage of hair growth. He wasn’t sure it he wanted to cut it yet, or leave it be, which left him with hair that looked like it belonged on a stereotypical Midgardian beach bum, the errant black waves wrapping about his ears and horns like vines. His rounded stomach, hidden under another one of his life-mate’s t-shirts, one that read “Thunder Hunk,” looked like a basketball shoved under the thin cotton blend, oddly disjunct from the rest of his toned physique. The babe continued to batter him mercilessly, growing stronger by the day, and the Braxton Hicks had started, causing an enormous of discomfort, putting things lightly. If his skin could show it, he knew that he would be bruised, from the child in his womb that possessed his father’s ferocity, and from the shadows formed under his eyes from lack of quality sleep. _Two more months._

  
“Yes, well,” the shorter man rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly before changing the subject, gesturing for the pregnant man to sit on one of the nearby stools. “Are you ready for this weekend?”

  
The Jotunn sat heavily with a sigh, a hand mapping the babe’s shifting position, the coolness of his skin soothing the areas that it pummeled. “Are you sure you want me to do this, Bruce? Of all the beings in all the worlds, I feel like I should be your last choice.”

  
The man cocked his head with a small frown, crossing his arms before shifting a bit on his stool. “You are the _obvious_ choice, Loki.” He smiled. “Besides, it’s your right as All-Father to preside over a wedding.”

  
“Yes, but my mother is the Goddess of Marriage, making her the _obvious_ choice to bless your nuptials.” He raised his eyebrows, thinking that his argument was rather valid. “Or Thor, for that matter. As All-Mother, God of Fertility, King of Asgard, he is as equally suited as I to cement your union.”

  
“Is this a Jotunn thing? This ‘Loki plus marriage ceremony equals worst idea ever’ mentality that your cultivating?” Bruce returned his cocked eyebrow with one of his own as he looked over his glasses at him.

  
“No,” the Prince of Asgard mumbled, crossing his arms between his stomach and his bosom. “I just think that there are others that would make your wedding as special as it should be.”

  
Bruce said nothing, continuing to give him the look that he gave the twins when they lied to him about something small. ( _“Oh no, Blue. We didn’t eat those candies - Fafnir did!” Oh, really._ ) Sarcasm was oozing off the doctor in waves, a smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth.

  
The Jotun sighed. “Fine.” He threw up his hands in mock defeat. “I don’t want to ruin your wedding.”

  
“And why do you think that you’d ruin it?” Concern had entered the sarcasm, lowing the mortal’s brow.

  
“Well, we both know how well _my_ nuptials went. It ended with Thor being tortured, several hundred guests leaving in disgust, and you nearly tearing the Great Hall apart. The wedding I attended before that had my mother punished for even including me on the guest list. Needless to say, weddings are not my forte and you deserve better. The best, Bruce. You and Asha. For putting up with me al-”

  
He did not finish his monologue as the smaller, greying man surged forward, off his stool and wrapped his arms about him, not quite meeting in the back thanks to his distended stomach. The heat from the man who housed the Hulk reminded him of his husband, whom he hadn’t held in three weeks, and caused an unbidden purr to rumble loudly out of his chest cavity, his eyes flying open in surprise.

  
Not letting go, the doctor murmured, “The reason that Asha and I want you, Loki, is _because_ of all the crap you’ve put us both through. You’re the one who introduced us, remember?”

  
“Well,” the blue man cut in, “technically it was Aiko...”

  
“Who is _your_ wonderful and brilliant child, yes she did invite both of us. However,” he released the taller, horned man with a bright smile, “You’re the one who got pregnant in the first place, thus necessitating Asha’s stay here and allowing our conversations from that night to become something more. So, we would be greatly disappointed if you did not preside over our ceremony and you’re going to do it. End of discussion.”

  
The mortal stepped back defiantly, challenging him with a knowing smile on his face. The Jotunn would not be able to say no to him, not after such an impassioned speech. His lips quirked, revealing the tip of a fang. “How are _you_ feeling, Doctor Banner?”

  
Bruce blushed up to the tips of his ears. “A bit nervous, very excited, so in love. Worried under it all.” He sighed. “I’m just...oh, I don’t know. The Other Guy is just always there, you know? He’s ready to come out at any second and, as much as I want to be with Asha for as long as I live, I just worry that I’ll end up hurting her.”

  
Fixing the man’s brown eyes with his own ruby pair, he sternly and confidently said, “You won’t. She’s a strong woman, she can take care of herself. Besides, I think you have a better handle on the Hulk than you think. It’s a fine line that you dance upon, Bruce, but it’s a line that you’ve been walking for most of your life. You are perfectly in control and being with someone forever is not going to change that.”

  
The younger man smiled softly. “You’re right, of course. Thank you.”

  
“Anytime,” the pregnant man said, standing. “Now, I guess I have a speech to write.” He grinned broadly, hiding his true reason for his visit as well as his abrupt exit.

  
“Of course,” Bruce replied. “It’d better be Oscar worthy.”

  
Not catching the reference, Loki just shook his horns and chuckled softly, exiting the room with a hand under his stomach, the other plucking a single, grey hair off his husband’s black t-shirt. He entered the elevator as whispered, “Gotchya.” In a louder, more commanding voice, he said, “JARVIS? Could you bring me to the lab, please?”

  
_Yes, right away Mr. Laufeyson. The ‘please’ was most appreciated. Mr. Stark is not so polite._

  
“Well, I’ll see what I can do for you, JARVIS in regards to Mr. Stark,” he responded, stepping off the elevator and onto the hidden floor. His horned feet bore him steadily over the polished cement, his claws clicking rhythmically in time to the music that Tony was blasting. Muttering a soft spell, he dulled the noise within his sensitive ears, turning everything but the sound of his breath into background noise.

  
He had his own workbench, something that he viewed as a rather sincere gesture of goodwill from the Man of Iron, and it was littered with various spell books and modern science equipment. Carefully placing the hair he had stolen from the unknowing Banner, he began to meticulously and laboriously extract the DNA from it. “Let’s see what you’re made of Doctor,” he whispered softly, setting to work.  
_____________________________________________________

  
_I will not make a fool of myself. I will not act like some lovesick damsel. I will remain dignified._ Or so he kept telling himself, standing in what he believed to be respectable clothing for the festivities. Of course, who would argue with him? He was All-Father after all. So, if he chose to wear a simple loincloth instead of loose cotton trousers and to bear his breast band proudly over his exposed stomach, then no one could complain about it. He did have his cloak about his shoulders, whipping about in the wind that whirled around the Tower and, prior to his jaunt outside, he had brushed his hair so that it was slicked back, out of his face though still curling at the ends.

  
The guests for the wedding had begun to arrive earlier in the evening, pouring in from around the world and from other realms as well, traveling via Bifrost to avoid the media that was camped out below on the pavement, hoping to catch a glimpse of anything at all. The ceremony itself was tomorrow, in the late morning. The location was, unfortunately, off-site, as the Vanir typically held their ceremonies outside, among the nature and the beauty of their world. Stark, by some miracle, had been able to cordon off part of Central Park, right on the water, for the wedding.

  
The baby kicked his stomach impatiently, commenting on the fact that he had yet to eat anything. The guests that had arrived were being treated to a brilliantly catered meal, again arranged by the inventor, but he was loathe to join the festivities. For one thing, it was incredibly stifling in the Penthouse, packed as it was with all sorts of people and he was uncomfortable, both mentally and physically. For another, no one from Asgard had arrived yet and he wanted to be the first to know of their arrival. His time on Midgard, while necessary, Bifrost travel being dangerous for the child, felt like a death sentence. He was cut off from his realm, his friends, his family, his Thor, and every day seemed to stretch on infinitely without them.

  
The whooshing sound of the Bifrost, quickly followed by the rainbow light startled him back to attention, his piercing eyes watching the beam. The world froze. Even the babe seemed to sense the hope that welled within him and stopped thrashing as he waited on baited breath.   
A figure, tall and muscled, wearing a cloak of red emerged from the brilliance of the Bifrost at a run. His arms were open, extended, a smile plastered on his handsome, bearded face as tears ran down his cheeks before being whipped off over Manhattan by the wicked October wind. “LOKI!” he bellowed, boots pounding on the metal of the launchpad.

  
“Thor,” the Jotunn breathed, His heart began to race, his lungs filled with air for the first time in what seemed like years. Despite the talk he had given himself, all sense of propriety vanished and he too was running, thinly muscled arms open to the taller, broader man. He didn’t have to run far, his husband’s strides eating up the space between them.

  
Their embrace was all-consuming, an overwhelming heat covered him, the scent of ozone and rain washed over him. His purr, wild and untamed, ripped from his chest and his husband wrapped his arms tighter around his oddly bulbous body with a deep, lengthy sigh. A hand left the small of his back and cupped his jaw, a large thumb tracing a single line of his Bergelmir’s Tears, before pulling his head in for a blistering kiss, filled with such need and longing. He opened his mouth, inhaling the heat, his cool, icy tongue entwining with the blazing heat of his life-mate’s.

  
Thor broke the kiss gently, his nose and hands tracing down his body until he was face to face with their child. Placing gentle kisses there, his hands tracing the surface and feeling the babe move about beneath the blue and purple veined surface, the King of Asgard began to talk to his rounded abdomen. “You’ve gotten so big,” his soft voice, his hands cradling the globe of his stomach, feeling the baby move about within him, drawn to the heat that it’s bearer lacked.

  
“Gee, thanks,” Loki responded with an eye roll and a sardonic smile.

  
“Oh, not you, my Little Jotunn,” the Thunderer responded, pressing his lips to the rounded blue expanse that had settled between his hips. “The little one.” The kneeling man looked up, his impossible blue eyes meeting the rubies set into the royal blue, ridged face of the Jotunn. “ _You_ ,” the All-Mother emphasized, “Are even more stunning than when I last saw you.”

  
“Oh, you big oaf,” the horned man replied, his fingers playing through the kneeling man’s blonde waves. “You flatter me in my condition.”

  
The blonde god rose slowly, taking his clawed hands within his larger, warmer hands. “I love you,” he whispered earnestly, his face soft around his adoring smile.

  
Loki returned the smile lovingly. “And I, you.”

  
“HEY! GET A ROOM!” Tony Stark’s sarcastic voice carried through the wind that whipped about the launch pad, his head poking out the glass doors.

  
The statement pulled the men apart, Loki looking about the God of Thunder and then looking past him, at the empty Bifrost site. “Where are the children?” he asked, noticing their absence for the first time.

  
“Mother and Aiko insisted that they come for the wedding tomorrow morning so that we can have some time alone together.” The taller man smiled suggestively before ushering his husband into the Penthouse.

  
Their entrance brought silence on the gathering, the people of the Nine, particularly those from Midgard, staring at them. Some, mainly the Avengers, smiled brightly, happy to see their rather sullen friend reunited with their other dear friend, his life-mate. Others looked astounded at the odd couple: the blonde man, an Adonis with the biceps to match, and the blue, horned creature, androgynous and rounded in pregnancy, terrifying to behold.

  
“It’s alright everyone!” the inventor, firmly positioned behind the bar, called vociferously. “We don’t have to worry! The King of Asgard has been found and is safe! Call off the search party!”

  
For once, Loki was glad of the Man of Iron’s need to be the center of attention. He breathed a sigh of relief as the eyes left his strange form. Thor wrapped an arm about his waist, giving him comfort, and steered him through the crowd to the happy couple who came rushing to greet Thor, their stance, arms wrapped around the other’s waist, matching the reunited couple’s. “Thor!” Bruce said, smile on his face, offering his hand to shake. The blonde god smiled brightly, grasping the other man’s hand firmly.

  
“Bruce!” he beamed before releasing the scientist’s hand and bending over Asha’s hand, pressing it to his lips with a softer smile. “Asha.”

  
“How are you, My Lord?” the Vanir asked with a small curtsy.

  
“Much better now that I am here with my Loki.” He turned to look at him, as his horns dipped into a blush. “And please, Asha, as one of my husband’s closest and dearest friends, please call me Thor.”

  
“Of course, Muh-Thor,” she said with a wide smile. “We are so glad that you could come to our wedding.”

  
“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” the blonde man responded. “Bruce is one of my shield brothers. Family. Both of you have brought Loki and I such happiness. It is the least I can do is come to your nuptials. Now,” he looked at the blue horned man beside him, “if you’ll excuse us, we have some catching up to do.”

 


	48. Chapter 48

  
The couple wound their way through the packed Penthouse, ignoring the stares at the strange picture they made. Once safe in the elevator, Loki called to JARVIS, “Bring us to the workshop, please, JARVIS. I need to put the finishing touches on our wedding gift.”

  
_Of course, Mr. Laufeyson._

  
“Tony let you into his workshop?” the blonde man asked, surprised.

  
“Yes, he did,” he beamed back, his fangs flashing in the light of the elevator. “Which is good because I most certainly couldn’t have worked on our wedding present for Bruce in _his_ lab.”

  
The elevator dinged, releasing the couple into Tony’s sacred space. “What exactly is our wedding gift to Bruce and Asha?” The King of Asgard’s brow furrowed as he followed the surprisingly fast-moving Jotunn, his boot’s thumping along the polished cement floor, punctuating the light click of his husband’s hooked big toe claws as they struck and skittered off the surface.

  
“Oh,” his life-mate spun around, a smile plastered on his handsome, cerulean face. “It’s rather simple, really. It’s a set of potions: one fertility potion for Asha and one special potion to block and prevent the gamma radiation from affecting and transferring to the potential child that could result from their coupling.”

  
He spun, continuing along his way to his lover’s workbench. “And how did you accomplish that?” He really couldn’t fathom how his husband was able to fiddle with something that defined the man in such a way.

  
“It wasn’t easy,” Loki called over his shoulder, sitting down heavily on a stool. “I had to splice his DNA, extract the parts effected by the gamma radiation, determine if there were spells that could change those traits, apply them or create new ones, reassemble the DNA and place it into a liquid form. Likewise, I placed spells to counteract gamma radiation within the potion for Asha. You, dear Husband, need to place the finishing touches on them.”

  
Thor was dumbfounded. “Loki,” he breathed, “This is incredible. They will be-” He shook his head. “What am _I_ supposed to do?”

  
“Just a simple blessing, Thor. Exactly what you wish for the women that come to the palace.” His ruby eyes looked up at him, soft and loving. “The blessing you whisper as you hold me at night and you think I’m asleep.” He held a clawed hand out to the other man, his head dipping in a blush that was met by the flush on his life-mate’s face.

  
“I still whisper it every night, wishing I was holding you,” he murmured softly, tears blinking in his eyes. Loki opened his arms and pulled him into his rounded body, a hand coming to the back of his head, comforting him. 

 

“Two more months, Thor, two more months and then we can be together again,” he murmured into his neck, his cool breath sending a tingle down the taller man’s spine.

  
“What do I need to do?” he responded, whispering into the other man’s shoulder. An icy hand pressed two small vials into his warm palm.

  
“Just whisper the prayer while holding these, and that’s it,” the Jotunn said, pulling back and out of the loving embrace of his lover.

  
He inhaled slowly, closing his eyes and focusing on his pink seidr, calling it into the vials he held. Chanting, he intoned, “Frjósemi er innan seilingar þeirra. Ég loka augunum og sjá getnað. Vandlega, Þeir munu hlúa mesta creation- kærleika þíns nýtt líf. Þeir eru tilbúin, tilbúin og fær um að bera barn. Aflið er með mér. Það er vilji Þórs. Gróðursetningu fræ í móðurkviði, sem ber ávöxt, sem mest mikil tré á þessu sviði. Megi þetta stéttarfélags vera frjósöm. Búa til nýjan sál og ég mun reisa hann upp.”

The Old Norse rolled over his tongue easily, infusing the gifts that his husband had labored on with his own seidr. He could feel it mingling with the mixture of his husband’s magic, fortifying and strengthening the mixture while feeling surprisingly intimate.

  
“Done,” he said with a smile. “Do you need anything else?”

  
“Nothing you can give me here,” the Jotunn replied coyly, taking the vials gently from his life-mate’s hands. “Shall we go to our suite?” He looked up at the other man through his eyebrows, one cocked suggestively.

  
“I think that would be wise,” the King of Asgard replied, picking his husband up in a basket carry, bridal style.

  
“Thor!” the other man practically shrieked in a very undignified manner. He laughed in response, the other man joining in as they hustled to the elevator. “Thank you, JARVIS!”

  
_Of course, Mr. Laufeyson, Mr. Odinson._

  
The elevator could not move fast enough for the two men. Thor, refusing to set his life-mate down, placed light kisses along any inch of skin that he could. The Jotunn’s purr rumbled about in his chest, vibrating his entire body. “Oh,” the king moaned, “How I’ve missed this, Loki. I can’t take being away from you. It’s been like living in Helheim.”

  
“Thor, we scry almost daily,” the royal blue man said honestly, though his eyes were telling a story similar to his own. Speaking daily was not enough, it almost seemed to make the longing worse. “Heimdall carries our missives back and forth. He is probably more tired of this separation than we are.”

  
Thor sighed, shifting the blue man slightly to open the door to the Asgardian apartments. “I hate this,” he muttered.

  
“As do I, Thor,” the Jotunn replied, stroking the other man’s beard with the pads of his fingers, his claws brushing through the golden hair. “But there is naught we can do about it. Two months is too long a time to leave Mother in charge. She has been running Asgard for most of her life. It is time that we take responsibility for what is ours.”

  
Tenderly, the God of Thunder set him down on the couch. “Have you eaten anything?” he asked, a knowing gleam in his sky blue eyes. The blue man looked down at his abdomen in response, a finger lazily tracing the purple veins that traversed the stretched expanse. “Loki.”

  
“Don’t Thor. You don’t know what it’s like. And don’t think that I can’t see it. Even you find my diet rather unsavory.” His finger continued to map his bulge, his eyes following it, refusing to make eye contact with his husband. “I feel like an animal in a menagerie when I eat in front of others. You know that.”

  
The couch sunk under his husband’s weight and a hot hand came to rest on top of his tracing finger. “Loki,” the baritone was soft and tender, “I know this is hard but you need to take care of yourself. And I am not saying this for the sake of our child - I am saying this because I love _you_. And that means every part of you.” The Jotunn could hear the gentle smile in the other man’s words. “Now, I’m going to get us something to eat. Don’t go anywhere.” The hand that clutched his thinner one gave the appendage a pat and was removed, the couch shifting as the weight of the other man was lifted.

  
The Jotunn listened, his head cocked slightly as his husband’s heavy footsteps tread through the sitting room and into the kitchen. He smiled, hearing Thor’s sharp intake of breath. “Loki?!”

  
“Yes, Thor?” he asked, knowing full well what the other man was seeing.

  
“Is this for me?” The excitement that permeated and punctuated the statement made his smile wider.

  
“It’s most certainly not for me. I can’t stomach that awful stuff,” he replied lightly.

  
“When did you get this?” The sound of packages tearing filled his ears.

  
“I asked Stark to add it to Pepper’s shopping list. He told me that if I was craving that then my child was most definitely yours.” He chuckled his rich ‘ehehe’ bouncing around the living room.

  
In less than five minutes later, Thor returned bearing a plate with a bleeding slab of venison, two mugs of tea, and three boxes of Poptarts: one wild berry, one hot fudge sundae, and one blueberry. It also appeared that one of each had already been consumed, flecks of rainbow frosting and bright sprinkles littered his beard, a smudge of chocolate stuck to the corner of his mouth. “Thank you,” the Thunderer replied, smiling like one of the twins after they had been gifted a biscuit for good behavior, his cheeks bulging.

  
“You’re welcome,” the horned man replied, a bright smile on his face. He did not approve of the junk food. He had refused to allow any of it in Asgard and had insisted that JARVIS refrain from purchasing more than one box for when they stayed in their apartment in the Tower. That way, Thor would have to savor the sugary treats instead of consume every last pastry in Manhattan. But, being separated from the blonde man for so long had made him soft and he had filled three cupboards with the boxed treats. He just hoped that it would last through the end of his pregnancy, though, with three boxes nearly gone, it did not seem likely.

  
He cut his steak, watching the blood ooze from the flesh, trying not to spill it onto the coffee table or carpet, his stomach getting horribly in the way. A large hand covered his right, stopping his cutting. “Here,” the Thunderer said quietly, swallowing what was left of the box of wild berry Poptarts, “Let me.”

 

The utensils, still awkward additions to his hands after all these years, were carefully removed, the plate shifted to sit on the coffee table in front of the King of Asgard who set about cutting the thick, red meat into small, chewable pieces. Loki’s mouth watered, his stomach rumbling and the child kicking at the organ furiously, as if the action could shift some nutrients into it’s empty stomach. He rubbed the azure expanse, his purr rumbling softly within his chest cavity.

  
“Norns, how I’ve missed that sound,” Thor whispered, pushing his plate, back to him gently. Loki smiled, taking the offered for back and stabbing at the pieces with gusto. The purr deepened, rolling out of him in waves now, as the nutrients flooded his mouth with flavor and the baby thrashed, pleased that it was finally being fed. His eyes rolled up in his head and he moaned, exhaling.

  
“You brought this,” he said quietly. “This is not Midgardian deer.”

  
“No, it’s not,” Thor beamed around his Poptart. “Who said that you are the only one who is allowed to provide gifts of nourishment?”

  
He leaned in and placed a rather sugary kiss on his lips. Loki flinched, knowing that he must have tasted his own, uncooked meal in return. Feeling the horned man draw away, Thor’s hand rose and grasped the back of his head, playing through the curled ends of his hair and drawing him back in, deepening the kiss. His warm tongue traced his cool thin lips, taking in the myoglobin and traces of blood that lingered there. “Mmmm,” the taller man hummed approvingly. “You taste so good, Loki. Better than the Poptarts.”

  
The Jotunn blushed, breaking the kiss. Why his life-mate did what he did, he would never know. But he planned on spending his life time trying to find it out anyway.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fertility prayer was something that I plugged into Google Translate, so if it's wrong, I apologize profusely!


	49. Chapter 49

**Central Park, New York City - Midgard**

  
He shifted his feet uncomfortably, his claws digging up bits and pieces of the manicured lawn. It was a beautiful day: the sky an impossible blue, the colorful autumn leaves still clinging to the branches of the trees that surrounded them. He was certain that Thor had had a hand in the weather, keeping to comfortably cool for the guests and comfortably warm for him.

  
That warmth kept him from wrapping his cloak tighter around his body as he waited, Bruce shifting nervously next to him. He had offered to wear a suit - it would have been what was expected at such a gathering - but Bruce and Asha had insisted that he wear something that made him comfortable. His original ceremonial garb was not an option, his stomach would be unable to fit into it even if the rest of his body did. That left his Jotunn ceremonial clothing: the emerald green cloak and matching loincloth, covered with swirls of white, silver, and gold that emulated the snow that whipped along the plains of Jotunnheim. He paired it with a plain black breast band, nothing else matching the ensemble.

  
Bruce shifted nervously beside him, wringing his hands. “Nervous?” he asked with a small smile playing at his lips.

  
The shorter man bit his lip and removed his glasses, polishing them on his tuxedo jacket. “Maybe,” he replied, clearing his throat.

  
The Jotunn placed a cool hand on the man’s shoulder. “Don’t be. There is no need.” The other man gave a small smile, looking up into his ruby orbs, unsure. He smiled back encouragingly. “Asha completes you. Your life-mate if there ever was one.”

  
“I’m just worried that I might hurt her.”

  
“No, you’re not,” he replied softly and kindly. “You’re afraid that the Other Guy will escape your careful watch and that _he_ will hurt her.” The other man did not meet his eyes, his hand running through his hair. The god moved his hand and slowly turned the man’s head so that he met his eyes. “Bruce. He’s not going to harm her either. I guarantee it.”

  
The man snatched his head out of his icy fingers, turning away. “You can’t guarantee anything. Not with the Other Guy.”

  
“Ah,” he said softly, moving to stand directly behind the doctor and leaned over to whisper into his ear. “But the Other Guy is Chaos. Again, Doctor Banner, you forget my monicker.”

  
The man who housed the Hulk jumped, turning to face the horned man. “No one, Bruce, understands Chaos as I do. And, while the Other Guy may be an integral part of you, he is also an integral part of me. He is aware and knowing. He can recognize friend from foe. He knows of Asha - He loves her as you do. He will protect her.”

  
The man’s brow knit as he listened before he suddenly smiled. “Thank you, Loki,” he said softly. “You are right. I haven’t had an incident in years and He seems calmer when I do let Him out. I’m just still disbelieving that this wonderful, beautiful, intelligent, funny woman would want me - damaged goods.”

  
The blue man smiled softly. “You are far from damaged goods, Doctor. So you have a condition where you turn green and rather large when you’re angry. I’m a runty blue Frost Giant that could freeze everyone I love with a stray touch. Thor, with his command of the storms, shocks me sometimes. Things happen, things that others might find terrifying or strange. But those are part of the reasons that our loved ones love us. In the eyes of people we love, we are whole and perfect.”

  
The music, a Midgardian string quartet, began to play, pulling the Jotunn’s attention from the shorter man to the archway where he and the couple would stand and their new lives as one would begin. He smiled brightly at the mortal beside him. “Are you ready to meet your other half, Bruce?”

  
The other man just nodded, smiling brightly. “Then let’s go,” the All-Father stated, turning from the relative shelter of the brush where he and Bruce had gathered. His steps, his claws digging small holes into the lawn of Central Park, led him out into the relative open. Tony had set up a perimeter, enforced by SHIELD agents along with the local police force, to keep the gawkers and press at bay, but it was still exposed. He inhaled deeply, allowing his mind to only focus only on the words he was about to say, the blessings he was about to bestow.

  
Taking his spot in the middle of the arch, he ignored the gasps from the assembly, his form obviously different from any justice of the peace on Midgard, and gave Bruce one last reassuring smile. Tony, ever the shmoozer, left off his conversation to stand on Bruce’s other side, his best man. He gave Loki a nod and clapped Bruce on the back, his trade mark indifference replaced by a genuine smile on his face, hidden partially behind his sunglasses.

  
The god nodded in return, but quickly turned his attention to the opposite end of the aisle. A beautiful, though no less dangerous Natasha, wearing a plum strapless, empire waist gown, a bouquet of soft, yellow and white roses clutched in her hands. She beamed at him and gave him a small, reassuring wink. He gave her a small, tight lipped smile in return, not wanting to flaunt his fangs. Asha followed, on her father’s arm.

  
She was absolutely breath-taking, gliding up the ground in bare feet under her flowing white gown. The lace sleeves fit her arms perfectly, light beading accenting and punctuating the patterns within it. The lace flowed over a sweetheart neckline and cinched waist to flow down into a short train. Her dark hair was pulled up into a messy bun, her veil perched on her head just before it. In true Vanir fashion, the veil would cover her face through the ceremony until the end, though the material was opaque, revealing her beautiful face to Bruce. A quick glance to the man revealed that his nerves and doubts had been forgotten. He was completely lost at the sight of his beloved.

  
Once Asha, taken from her father’s arm by the Avenger, stood before him, her fingers wound through Bruce’s, he took a deep inhale. Smiling at he exhaled, he gazed at each in turn, sure that he had never seen two people who deserved the other more. He looked up, raising his horns and opened his arms to the gathering.

  
“People of Midgard, the Nine, and honored and distinguished dignitaries and guests from around the Realms. We are gathered here today to join together in sacred matrimony, this man Dr. Bruce Banner, and this woman, Asha Obrechtdottir. This is a most holy bond, formed from the deepest and purest of all affections: Love. Once enacted, it can only be severed by Death. If anyone has any objections as to why this man and this woman should not be joined in matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

  
The Jotunn paused, waiting for objections that he knew would not come, a small smile on his lips as he looked at the assembly. He continued. “Have you come before me, Prince Loki Laufeyson, All-Father of the Nine, willingly and with love in your hearts?”

  
“Yes,” murmured the couple, squeezing their hands in unison and anticipation, their eyes focused on each other.

  
“Do you understand the responsibilities of marriage: To love one another through the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, all the days of your lives until the coming of Ragnarok?”

  
“I do,” the couple whispered. Bruce’s quirked smile playing at his lips as Asha flushed, her veil doing nothing to hide the pink that coated her cheeks.

  
He waved his hands, summoning a small clay pot, dirt and loam sitting within it. In the Vanir tradition, he asked, “Have you brought the seeds?”

  
Bruce dug into his pocket, pulling out a round, silvery seed as Natasha, smiling, gave Asha another round seed, gold in color. “Please,” the All-Father said, focusing on the planter, “Plant your seeds.”

  
Simultaneously, the Vanir and the Midgardian pushed their perspective seeds into the damp soil. Whispering some words, borrowed from Thor, the Prince of Asgard called forth the plant, grown from the combination of the two seeds. The sapling was constructed of intertwined silver and gold bark, smooth and shining. The leaves it sprouted were a silvery green, the blossoms, a fine golden yellow. “This bonsai, from the gardens of the Queen Mother, represents your love: pure, shining, and, if cared for with the same affection that you show each other, eternal. May it’s glow never fade, may it’s leaves and flowers never wilt, and may it weather all the storms and harsh winters that you will face in your lives together.”

  
He smiled, his fangs on full display. “Bring forth the rings.” Tony stuck a hand in his pocket and pulled out the pair of rings. They were platinum, Bruce’s enchanted to enlarge and shrink with his changeable body. Asha’s was comprised of three thin intertwining bands, etched with small leaves and blooms. Banner’s band was thicker, the outside plain. On the inside of the band, however, was etched, ‘ _The course of true love never did run smooth._ ’ He took a deep inhale, his free, blue hand pausing over the rings and began his chanting. Minuscule runes etched themselves along the lengths of the rings, protecting the wearers and strengthening their bond of love. When he finished, he nodded, allowing the man and the woman to pick up the other’s ring from Tony’s hand.

  
“Bruce Banner, the Man who Houses the Hulk, do you swear to take this woman to love and to cherish, for the rest of her days?”

  
Smiling at Asha and gently picking up her slender hand, the Avenger said, “I do.” He slid the feminine band on to the healer’s tapered finger, tears springing to his eyes even as he beamed.

 

“Asha Obrechtdottir, do you swear to take this man to love and cherish, for the rest of his days?”

  
Her face, still hidden behind the veil, was flushing a scarlet that rivaled his eyes. Slowly and deliberately, she slid the thick band onto her lover’s finger. “I do,” she murmured, her love flooding the two words in an uncontrolled rush. The two grasped their hands tightly, winding their fingers through each others.

  
Loki drew forth a thin, gold chord and loosely tied it around their wrists, literally binding them together. He placed the plant into his friends bound hands with a tender smile. “By the powers vested in me, through the Nine as my position of All-Father, I now join you as Husband and Wife.” The gold band absorbed into their skin and bloomed up into the small tree, giving it a luminous glow. He beamed, looking first at Asha, and then at Bruce, he said, “You may now kiss you bride.”

  
The shorter man smiled, his eyes sparkling briefly at the horned man, before turning to his wife. His hands, always so sure and precise, shook slightly as he slowly peeled the veil up and over the dark haired woman’s head, revealing her blush and her teary face to those around them. “I love you,” he murmured.

  
“I love you too, Bruce,” she replied, her cheeks a fiery flush. He bent slightly, a hand running along the side of her face as she leaned up to greet him. When their lips met, a chaste kiss in the presence of their family and friends, applause rose up from the crowd.

  
“It is with greatest pride and deepest pleasure, that I present, for the first time: Dr. and Mrs. Bruce and Asha Banner!” He opened his arms as the couple broke apart and practically sprinted down the aisle, their happy ever after laid before them.   
______________________________________________________

  
Loki was glad that the Doctor had seated him as far off to the side as possible. He could still feel the eyes of the gathering on him, more out of curiosity than anything else, but it still made him squirm, running a hand along one of his horns. Thor, unwilling to leave is side for a moment, squeezed his thigh gently. He smiled back at the blonde man. “You were wonderful, Darling,” he whispered, leaning into his cool skin.

  
“I had a wonderful tutor,” he responded, a faint purr humming in his chest. “Mother is more eloquent, I fear.”

  
The King of Asgard chuckled. “Than the great Loki Silvertongue? I doubt it.” Loki chuckled, mingling with his husband’s booming laughter.

  
Their moment was interrupted by the sight of the newlyweds making their way over to the table that housed the Aesir contingent. They chatted with the Warriors Three, Hogun even smiled. Aiko, their unofficial photographer for the event, flitted about, capturing every moment that she possibly could, a smile plastered on her face. The twins were racing about, dancing and creating scenarios with Freddie, charming the pants off of anyone that saw them. Frigga, ever vigilant, watched them while conversing softly with Asha.

  
“Thank you for doing this, Loki,” Bruce said, coming over to his side and placing a hand on his unoccupied shoulder.

  
“Of course, Bruce,” he replied, hefting his bulk to his feet to embrace the man properly. “It was the least I could do.” He heard Thor rise behind him and he cocked his head slightly to the left, a tight lipped smile playing at his lips. “And this.”

  
He placed a hand on the other man’s broad shoulder and carefully pulled him over to the side, knowing that his life-mate was doing the same with Asha. The scientist’s brow was furrowed, his confusion written across it. His hand reached for that of his wife, pulling her into his side. Thor, he was sure, stood behind him, his arms crossed over his armor. The pair’s gaze flickered back and forth between the two of them.

  
The Jotunn beamed. “I apologize for the theatrics, but we-” he gesture to his husband, who came to wrap an arm around his less than defined waist, “Thought that our wedding gifts need some explaining.”

  
The Avenger’s eyebrow rose. “Oh?”

  
The Thunderer’s hand went into his pocket and retrieved the two vials, offering them and their shimmering contents to the couple. “These are for you,” he said quietly, his rumbling baritone sending a wave of desire down the blue man’s spine. “For tonight.”

  
“Tonight?” the shorter man asked, not quite understanding.

  
Asha shook her head. “There won’t be a tonight. It’s too risky.”

  
“No,” the God of Chaos replied, “It’s not. Not if these are consumed prior to the...” He stopped, fumbling with his words, his head bowed into a blush. With a soft chuckle, a hand running along his stomach as the babe within him kicked vigorously, he changed the subject. “The pink vial is for you, Asha. It is a relatively standard fertility potion with added wards against gamma radiation or damage.” His ruby eyes flicked to the grey-haired man. “The silver vial is for you, Bruce. It contains your DNA, altered through magic and some science. It will prevent any offspring conceived on this night from inheriting anything that relates to your accident and the resulting Other Guy.”

  
Thor’s arms pulled him gently into his side. “Your child, friends,” his lover said quietly, “Will be at no risk from the Hulk.”

  
Tears sprang into the eyes of the couple as they held each other and looked at the offered potions. Thor jostled his hand a bit, his eyebrows raising. Loki elbowed him in his ribs, causing the other man to hiss. “Patience, Thor,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “This is a huge change in their future. They may not want a child.”

  
A similar murmured conversation was occurring across from them, the shorter couple gazing intensely into each other’s eyes. Bruce ran a hand through his hair, Asha following his hand with her own before they drew together in a kiss. Loki smirked, inclining his head away from the All-Mother and towards their friends.

  
A pair of hands accepted the vials tenderly. “Thank you, My Lords,” Asha replied, dipping into a small curtsey. Bruce was speechless, his eyes shining.

  
“I believe that now is the time in the festivities when your guests bid you farewell,” the Jotunn said with a broad smile. “Have a good evening.” He ran a hand down his stomach for emphasis and turned away from the couple, Thor following him, his warm hand pressed into the small of his back easing what was a constant and persistent ache. He sighed, leaning heavily into the heated side of his husband. He couldn’t resist nuzzling into his thick neck, the sweet fragrance of ozone flooding his nose. His purr rose from his chest, no doubt drawing the eyes of the gathering, but, with his eyes closed, Thor was the only other person who existed in that moment.

 


	50. Chapter 50

  
**Central Park, New York City - Midgard**

  
Two short but strong bodies slammed into his legs, as well as his husband’s, stopping their steps as his stomach was stroked by small, hot, and, inevitably, sticky hands. “Well, hello there, Torsten, Daryn!” his husband chuckled as his own eyes opened and looked down at the twins, their faces as sticky as their hands, smeared with cake and frosting.

  
“Daddy! Blue!” they chimed, though their focus was only on his passenger, thrashing about as usual, battering his abused uterine walls. “Hello Toby!”

  
“Toby?!” Loki scoffed. “You think that the baby is going to be a Toby?” He smiled widely at the little ones and their initiative, interested as to how the little ones would have come across that name.

  
“We _know_ that the baby is a Toby, Blue,” Torsten intoned, wisdom that only a six year old could convey.

  
“Don’t you?” Daryn asked, her wide blue eyes meeting his laughing ruby pair.

  
“Well, in fact my Darling, we had not thought about a name for the baby quite yet.” He shot a glance at Thor. “We will certainly consider Toby, though. It is a _lovely_ name.”

  
The twins looked at each other and the globe attached to his abdomen. Conspiratorially, Daryn leaned in, her hot lips brushing the cool, purple veined rounding, and whispered, “I’ll set them straight, Toby. Don’t you worry.”

  
With a final pat on the blue expanse, the twin balls of energy rushed away giggling, their sugar high pulling them about in a whirl of laughter. The God of Mischief laughed after them, echoed by Thor’s booming laugh. “We are _not_ naming this child Toby,” the blue man gasped between chuckled. “I refuse to have it named after a dog.”

  
“Well,” the King of Asgard said, inhaling deeply to steady his breathing, “It’s better than naming it ‘the Baby’.” His large thumb traced Loki’s Bergelmir’s Tears tenderly. “We should think of names, my Love.”

  
“We have time,” the All-Father replied, leaning into the other man’s touch. “Two more months, give or take. Plenty of time.” His ruby eyes flickered to meet the sparkling sapphires that winked at him from his husband’s broad, tanned face. “We don’t even know if it will be a boy or a girl.”

  
“Or Jotunn.” The statement hung in the air after it passed his lover’s lips. The blue man’s face fell, his fear that the child he carried would inherit more from himself than from Thor was brought to the fore.

  
“Loki,” Thor whispered, his thumb tracing and retracing his Jotunn ridges that marred his face. “Please. Don’t.”

  
He attempted to look anywhere but at the shining blue eyes, so filled with love, with little success. Thor continued his ministration on his facial ridges, a soft smile on his lips. His free hand came and placed itself on the side of his abdomen, heating the expanse and drawing the child to it like a moth to a flame. “This child is a blessing, no matter what. And it will be loved. I swear to you.”

  
“I know,” his thin, blue lips whispered, his Clawed hand covering the All-Mother’s hand as it rested on his abdomen, careful not to prick the tanned skin with his curved, ebony claws. He smiled shyly, a fang playing at his lower lip. “I love you, so very much, Thor.” He leaned forward, capturing the perfect, full lips before him.

  
The taller man moaned, pulling him closer by shifting one hand to the small of his back and the other to the back of his head, playing through his unruly hair. Loki sighed, opening his mouth to the other man’s probing tongue, gasping as the heat flooded his senses. His tongue flicked the roof of Thor’s mouth before allowing the other man to trace his fangs with his own tongue. They broke apart, still held together by their arms around the other’s waist, smiling, pupil’s dilated. “I love you, too, Loki,” his husband whispered, leaning forward to place small, heated kisses along his neck, which he arched, giving the man full access.

  
“Hmmm,” he hummed, his purr rumbling, the babe within him settling, lulled into slumber. Thor’s strong arms pulled him towards the gathering and the dance floor. He was spun, his horns resting on Thor’s broad shoulder, right over his mate mark. His purr softened to a low rumble, allowing the words of the wedding singer fill his ears.

  
_At last - My love has come along_  
 _My lonely days are over and life is like a song, oh yeah_  
 _At last the skies above are blue_  
 _My heart was wrapped up clover the night I looked at you_  
 _I found a dream that I can speak to_  
 _A dream that I could call my own_  
 _I found a thrill to press my cheek to_  
 _A thrill I've never known, oh yeah_  
 _You smiled, you smiled oh and then the spell was cast_  
 _And here we are in Heaven_  
 _For you are mine at last_  
__________________________________________________

  
**Asgardian Suite, Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
He woke to the feeling of complete and total bliss. He was encompassed in a pleasant cool, the scent of pine and winter filling his nose. It was something that no one else could give him, their body temperature too high for him to be reminded of his lover, making his empty bed seem almost warm with the lack of the other man. He placed a gentle kiss on the tear that he had first made ten months ago, more in love with the Jotunn than he had ever been.

  
He was a sight to behold. His rare raven hair fanned out about his head like a dark halo of shadow, interrupted only by the noble, curving prominences that hung over the edge of the nest. His face, unburdened by his position or responsibilities in sleep, looked like the young man that he knew him to be. Only 1,073 - Eighteen by Midgardian reckoning. So young, still a boy really, despite the life he had led. The royal azure, etched and highlighted by the silvery Jotunn ridges, was youthful and beautiful, his lips slightly parted as he purred. It rumbled softly out of his chest, now fully blossomed into the bosom that would feed the child with in him, hidden underneath a loose tunic, only parts of his upper chest and neck exposed to the early morning light. The cloth hid his changing body, beautifully swollen and round, though far from the size that the Jotunn had been when he bore the twins. Despite the child’s genetics, carrying more than a drop of Jotunn blood, it appeared to be small, though Bruce swore that the child was developing on schedule, or as close to on schedule as either he or his husband could guess. A small kick resonated against his abs, the baby was not resting as easily as his life-mate, pulling the king from his thoughts.

  
In an attempt to soothe the waking babe, he placed a warm hand on the cool expanse, humming lightly under his breath. Loki was resting less easily of late, the child waking at odd hours and with it, his husband. The Jotunn had told him on the night of his arrival that he usually was roused in the early hours of the morning, relieved himself of the pillow that the babe found in his bladder, and made his way to the pool, where the water would cradle his aching, sore body for a few more hours before the child would wake him again. As he had desperately missed the warmth of his very arms, Loki had foregone his hours in the pool to snuggle into his person. Thor, a deep sleeper, knew that, if his life-mate’s skin allowed any color to show, he would have deep bruises under his eyes, and, most likely, on his battered abdomen. He slept only a couple of hours at a time, the child making him a bit of an insomniac.

  
The baby continued to tumble about under his hand and he could feel his life-mate beginning to awaken. The purr stuttered, falling into a hum as his body, toned but for his stomach and bust, stretched. His toes flexed and curled, the tough hooked claws pulling at the sheets, his arms tightening around his warm body, pulling him closer. “Good morning,” he murmured, his gorgeous, two-toned scarlet eyes blinking at him drowsily. He gave a small smile, his claws gently pulling through his tangled blonde hair. “I miss this...so very much.”

  
The muscular man pulled the lithe body closer, trying to bend around the distended stomach that separated them. “Me too,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the other man’s thin lips. The chaste moment was broken, however, when the azure man stiffened, head cocking slightly.

  
“The children are awake,” he sighed, moving to get up. The All-Mother reached out and grabbed his hand gently.

  
“Don’t,” he begged. “Stay.”

  
The Jotunn smiled sadly. “That I cannot do.” Slowly, he watched the younger man rise and slide from the bed. He stretched, fully this time, with a groan, before a hand came to rest beneath his half hidden stomach.

  
Thor watched as his husband strode into their bathroom and closed the door. The other man’s body had been exposed when his arms reached above his head, revealing his widened hips and slightly curvy, feminine form, having shifted naturally to accommodate the upcoming birth during his time away. He was beautiful.

  
With a firm shake of his head, thinking of his luck at the love that they had, he too rose and began his morning, pulling on a pair of loose sleeping trunks that had spent the evening on the floor. He never liked sleeping with anything on anyway, but after a talk with Torsten about things that should and should not be shared with others, he had taken to keeping them nearby, incase the twins came to in him the night.

  
Trousers firmly in place, slung low across his hips, he opened the bathroom door to find a rather manic All-Father. His lover had one hand frantically working a toothbrush over his fangs while the other tugged a comb through his knotted hair. Their eyes met in the mirror and Loki frowned, obviously not thrilled to have been found multitasking. The Thunderer chuckled and took the comb away from the horned man, extricating the thin plastic device from his fingers. Standing directly behind his husband, his morning wood pressed against the other man’s ass, he tenderly began to detangle and brush the thick, black hair before him. Knowing how sensitive the Jotunn’s ridges were, he paid special attention to the Crown that was hidden beneath the locks, massaging it with his free fingers as he worked.

  
“Come back to bed,” he whispered in the pale, blue ear in front of him, watching and feeling the thinner man shudder, his ruby eyes rolling back in bliss. “We could have a little lie in. Wait for the kids to come to us, instead of us going to them. Please.” He wrapped his arms around the bulging waist of his once-brother as he spat paste into the porcelain sink.

  
Not waiting for an answer, he bent and picked the slimmer man up as if he weighed nothing, resulting in an undignified squawk from the All-Father. “Thor!” he shrieked, “Put me down you _oaf!_ ”

  
The King of Asgard continued to walk steadily back into the bedroom. Loki continued to thrash, though his struggle was growing increasingly half-hearted. “Thor,” he murmured, “Unhand me this instant!”

  
“Alright,” he chuckled, dropping the pregnant man into the center of the nest, quickly sliding down to join him. He reached about him, pulling the sheets and comforter back and enveloping himself and his life-mate in the soft fabrics. Gently, he leaned back, the Jotunn, so tangled up in his arms and their bedding, falling back onto the mattress. “Ah,” Thor said, smiling at his husband’s shining face, “Isn’t this better?”  
Loki chuckled, snuggling closer, his cool, rounded stomach resting on his own, sculpted abs. His cold hand rested over his heart and moved to play through his fine, golden chest hair, tracing his mate mark with a soft hum. “Yes,” the younger man breathed, raising goosebumps across his chest.

  
Thor bent and kissed the base of one of the other man’s horns, allowing him to snuggle in closer. Within a few minutes, the exhausted Jotunn had fallen back to sleep, a soft purr-like snore escaping his lips. “Sleep well, my Little Jotunn,” he murmured.

  
A soft creak drew his attention to the door. The twins stood there, beaming. He lifted a finger and pressed it to his lips, warning them to be quiet. The little ones nodded and scrambled into the nest. Trying not to jostle his lover, the God of Thunder opened his free arm to them, allowing his family to snuggle into his side. He felt so well loved. He would never take his family for granted, not when they provided moments like this, filled with perfect bliss. His eldest, his husband’s daughter shuffled in a few minutes later, a cup of tea in one hand and a black coffee for him. _Thank you_ , he mouthed, reaching for the mug.

  
“You’re welcome,” she whispered, placing a kiss on his temple with a warm smile. “The twins would like to go to the zoo before we leave tonight.”

  
“Oh, really?” he replied in an equally hushed tone. She nodded, taking a sip of the warm liquid. “I’m sure that can be arranged once everyone is up.”

  
Aiko’s eyes dropped to her father’s sleeping form, worry filling them. “How did he sleep?”

  
“Not well,” he sighed. “This babe is over active. I worry for him. It is too much, especially since he continues to push and work and rule from Midgard.”

  
“But we both know that he won’t stop. There is a saying here on Earth that idle hands are the Devil’s playground.” She pressed her lips together, noticing that he did not understand the reference. “It means that if you are not busy, you are asking to become involved in less than ideal situations. I think that’s what Blue’s afraid of: falling back into his past. Even after all this time.”

 

His blue eyes met her sapphire pair. “You sense it too?”

  
“It’s never gone away, Thor,” she whispered. “It’s _always_ been there.”

  
“I know,” he murmured, his thumb stroking the prince’s Mantle tenderly. He looked back up at his stepchild. “And yet, that’s one of the multitude of things that proves that he has changed. The old Loki wouldn’t have cared. He would have been a harsh, almost cruel All-Father, wise but unthinking in regards to the effect that his decisions would have, not only on the victims and the accused, but everyone within those people’s lives.”

  
“Now, he thinks about them too much,” the short, young woman whispered, perching on the nest watching her younger siblings and her father sleep.

 


	51. Chapter 51

  
**Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
His ruby eyes scanned his meager clothing in the closet that he shared with his husband. Thor’s clothes, bulky and generally larger than his own, took up a majority of the space in the upright wooden structure as well as the dresser along the far wall. He bent, glad he could still do so, and pulled a pair of loose, linen trousers over his legs and loincloth. The loss of the air movement was uncomfortable to say the least, the fabric irritating his sensitive skin. His left hand rubbed his stomach tenderly, his right returning to the closet, rifling through clothes. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he yanked one of his husband’s sweaters off the hanger and pulled it carefully over his horns and settling it over his abdomen. It looked like he had jammed a ball beneath the wool - He looked ridiculous.

  
“Loki,” a soft baritone said from the doorway, causing him to turn, a hand resting on his shifting belly. He must have allowed his discomfort to escape his carefully maintained mask. “Darling, what is wrong?”

  
He sighed, crossing his arms over his now ample chest. “Nothing,” he muttered, shifting his weight.

  
“Loki,” Thor intoned again, a hint of a loving sigh in the word.

  
He rolled his ruby eyes, a smirk sliding onto his thin lips. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” He dropped his hands in exasperation. “I’m a beached whale.” He gestured to his swollen body. “The grey color of this jumper is not helping much.”

  
Thor strode purposefully forward and wrapped his strong arms around his bulbous shape. “Then you are the most handsome whale to ever roam the Nine.” His lips planted themselves under each of his horns and then between his eyes, crawling down his face, a hand gently tipping it up. His lips continued their trail, placing kisses along his nose, along his Bergelmir’s Tears, and, finally, onto his eager lips. The attention made him melt, the baby dancing a jig between his hips.

  
“Shall we venture forth, then?” the blue man murmured against the full pink lips.

  
“We shall,” his husband responded, placing a quick, final kiss before breaking away from the other man. The King of Asgard kept a hand at the small of his back, easing the ache while ushering him towards the door. The children, bundled in their Midgardian coats and hats, danced from foot to foot with excitement. Aiko shifted her camera on it’s neck strap, smiling at her parents and the twins. Torsten and Daryn raced over, pulling on the god’s hands, yanking them towards the door.

  
“Yes, yes,” the God of Mischief said, beaming at the little ones as they bounced. “We are coming! The animals will still be there when we get there. I promise!”

  
The family left their apartment and moved into the elevator, the twins practically running circles in their impatience. The heir stopped briefly and looked up at the two men. “Can we pet the animals? Are they friendly?”

  
“Well...” Loki began, wheels turning in his mind. Certainly he could use a bit of his seidr to get the children in with relatively harmless creatures like various birds, reptiles who would be lazy this time of year, the monkeys maybe. His life-mate, however, had a very different idea.

  
“No,” he replied, sending the blue man a look that read _Don’t even think about it_ , “These animals are just for _looking_.”

  
“Oh, okay,” the younger twin shrugged it off with the rise and fall of his shoulders. He quickly went back to jumping about the elevator with his sister, their curly heads bouncing. Their energy found its way into his weary, worn body, making him feel like a child again. Everything could wait. Right now he was going to the zoo with his family and that was going to be the highlight of his stay on Midgard. Of that he was certain.

  
He was relieved when they stepped from the elevator and into the lobby, the small space becoming a bit tight with the energetic six year olds, his bouncing stomach, his laughing eldest, and his husband, who at the best of times, was still a child at heart. Thor left his side, pulled forward by his own enthusiasm as well as those of the twins, his booming laugh ringing through the lobby.

  
A warm, bundled arm slipped through his. He turned, smiling down at his daughter. “My Child of Love,” he murmured, “How I’ve missed you.”

  
“And I you, Blue,” she replied, beaming up at him and gently bumping his widened hip with her own. “Asgard is not the same without you.”

  
“Well,” he sighed, reaching across his stomach to grasp the hand that wound through his arm. “I am certainly homesick. It is too quiet here among the Avengers. No misbehaving dog, no excited twins-” He looked down at her stunning blue eyes. “No discussion of art with a very talented artist.”

  
She rolled her eyes with a quirked smile. “And no Father rushing about, way too busy for his own good.”

  
“Who _me?_ ” he asked, faux innocence permeating his gravelly voice. “Never.” She hip-checked him again, a bit less gently this time. He stumbled a bit but recovered, chuckling. He grabbed the door from Thor and ushered the woman who had saved him out into the brisk autumn day.   
______________________________________

  
**Bronx Zoo, New York City - Midgard**

  
The trip to the Midgardian menagerie was as wonderful as he had hoped. The twins, caught up in the wonder of strange and wondrous creatures, pulled the three older family members here and there through the zoo. Aiko, having been raised with the beautiful animals, was still drawn to capture every twitch of a tail, every stamp of a hoof, with her camera. She also caught moments of excitement among her family members. The twins were particularly drawn to the mischief of the monkeys, the antics of the meerkats, and the awesome beauty of the exotic parrots. Thor was surprised by some of the larger creatures from the African continent, such as the rough hided rhinoceros, the long-lived elephants, and the long-necked giraffes.

  
Loki took it all in, just enjoying the closeness of his family whom he hadn’t seen in a month. It had been a long month, with two more just like it to follow. He finally understood why Thor had despised April so much. Being apart from the five people that he cherished the most was painful. The babe in his belly chose to kick him then, reminding him that he was not alone in his loneliness. That his exile to Midgard was for his health and the health of the life he was nurturing.

  
Despite the fact that their visit was relatively late in the season, the little family received many an odd look. His husband was almost more of an attraction to some of the zoo-goers than the animals. Midgardians of all ages would come up to him, asking for a photo, an autograph, striking up conversations about the most ridiculous things. He himself was given very wary and openly curious looks as well as a wide berth. He didn’t mind being left alone, as it gave him more time with the children, as well as a means to keep the little ones out of the public’s direct eye.

  
Eventually, Thor was able to extricate himself from his fans (Sadly and annoyingly, more women than men), and spend time with the family that he loved so much. He wrapped his arms about his bulging frame tenderly, placing a kiss on his cool cheek. “I apologize,” he whispered into his cool ear. “I should have guessed that they’d find me.”

  
Leaning his head against his life-mate’s forehead, his horns curving over and around the taller man’s golden head, he forgave him silently. His purr rolled from his chest, starling the zebra’s that the twins were observing, their heads thrown up in fright as they took off across their enclosure. “Oh,” he breathed, stopping his animalistic show of affection. “I am terribly sorry.”

  
The Thunderer nuzzled closer in response, placing another gentle kiss along his ridges. “Do not apologize. It’s been so long since I’ve heard that glorious sound, I would hear it. As I’m sure, would the children.”

  
Two small hands covered his stomach, their heat cutting through the wool cable knit that covered his torso. Their shining, but melancholy faces looked up at him expectantly. He smiled down at them, allowing a softer purr to sputter to life. Their faces broke out into smiles.

  
“Have we seen everything that we wanted to see?” Thor asked, shifting his arms to embrace his family. “Shall we return to Avenger’s Tower? Have some pizza before we go home?”

  
The twins, excited by the prospect of one of their favorite Midgardian delicacies (one that he, of course, could not eat himself), grasped his clawed hands in their smaller ones, pulling him along to the exit and the bustle of the city. The prospect grieved him greatly, knowing that going home was not to the Tower, his current place of inhabitance, but Asgard and Bilskirnir. Thor’s arm kept him steady, holding him about the waist, as if he were the anchor that rooted him to this earth.   
__________________________________________________

  
The evening quickly passed, a whirl of laughter and smiles. The twins consumed their cheese-covered slices with gusto. Thor consumed a whole pie and the rest of the twins’ once he had finished. Aiko offered him some of hers and he took a small bite, immediately regretting the decision as his stomach turned and his mouth was burnt, the bread and cheese was delightful, the tomato sauce, not so much. He declined further pieces of pizza after that, sticking with his bleeding steak, chunk of cheese, and uncooked potatoes.

  
Thor insisted on clearing the table and washing the dishes without help, dragging his feet as he went about the chores. “Loki,” he called from the kitchen into the dining room, “Will you read to me? The story about the boy wizard?”

 

“Of course, Thor,” he replied, summoning the book and opening it to the place where they last stopped. He began to read aloud, listening to his husband putter about between the dining room and the kitchen, accompanied by the clinking of silverware and dishes and the rush of water from the tap. It was so easy to get caught up in the world created by the author, this JK Rowling. Both men lost track of the time, the King completing his chores and coming to sit at the other man’s feet. He picked one up then the other, massaging the slightly swollen body parts tenderly, digging his thumbs into the raised arches of both the feet and the big toes. “Hmmm,” he sighed, placing the bookmark into the novel and closing it firmly. “Thor,” he said sadly, “It’s getting late. The twins will be tired.”

  
The Thunderer leaned against his legs with a sigh, wrapping his warm, strong arms about them. “But I don’t wish to leave.”

  
“And I don’t want you to,” he responded, carding the strands of wavy blonde hair on his lap. “But we both have duties to attend to. Two months will be over before we know it, I’m sure.”

  
The lie did not leave his tongue easily and he lacked all conviction. Thor gave him a small smile. “I’ll get the little ones, then.”

  
He rose, gathered the tired twins in his arms and headed to the launch pad. Upon arrival, he leaned down to steal a kiss from the thin blue lips of the other man. “I love you, Loki,” he breathed.

  
“And I you, you big oaf,” the Jotun responded, deepening the kiss. “I will see you soon. I promise.”

  
He turned to Aiko and swept her up into a hug. “My Child of Love,” he murmured, inhaling her wonderful scent while placing a kiss on the top of her head, “Watch over them for me. Keep the big one out of trouble.” She giggled and hugged him tighter about the middle.

  
“I promise, Blue.” She smiled. “Try to take it easy. For me...and the baby.” He smiled at her, a fang peaking out of his mouth.

  
“You know that I won’t make promises that I can’t keep. Not to you.” He placed another kiss on her brow. She laughed and placed a tender kiss on his cheek and another on his covered stomach.

  
“I love you, Dad,” she murmured.

  
“And I love you, my Child of Love.” She stepped back, joining his husband and his sleeping twins on the Bifrost site. He bit his lower lip, willing the tears that sprang instantly into his eyes not to fall, and waved as the rainbow lights took his family away again.

  
The blue man sighed, rubbing his stomach as the feeling of loneliness washed through his body like cold water, or at least what he remembered cold water to be. “Well, Baby,” he murmured, “It’s just the two of us now.” The child stretched within him, pressing outward, hands below his ribcage and feet on each of his hipbones. The feeling, very strange, to say the least, banished the icy feeling, the calder that had crept down his spine. “Calder,” he whispered. The child punched him firmly in the gut, making him gasp. “Okay, okay. We’ll keep it in the running.” He chuckled. “At least it’s better than Toby, right?” The babe gave no response, returning to his stretched position. “I’ll talk to your father about it in the morning,” he murmured, turning and reentering the penthouse.

  
The inventor was there, a glass of scotch ( _expensive no doubt_ ) clutched in one of his hands. The other was scrolling through something on his StarkPad. “Tough break, Rudolf,” he said, not looking up from his electronic device. “When will the husband and kiddies be back?”

  
“For Christmas, I think,” he said, the reality of the separation. “A little less than two months.” He pressed his hand against one of the baby’s, reveling in the touch of the one family member who had not left him on Midgard. “At least, that’s all I know.”

  
“Yup. I might have asked the question, but I didn’t care about the answer, man.” He looked up, from his tablet, not making eye contact. “We both know that one or more of them will be back before then.” He cocked an eyebrow, making eye contact with the blue man. “The big guy can’t keep away from his ‘Boo’.”

  
“I’m not a ghost,” he replied, wrinkling his Horns in confusion.

  
“Term of endearment, Renaissance Faire,” the Man of Iron replied, turning back to his device. “I’m getting you _Midgardian Slang for Dummies_ for Christmas. I’m over explaining pop culture references to you.”

  
He rolled his eyes, releasing a sigh. “Whatever you would like, Stark,” he said, making his way over to the elevator. “Have a lovely evening.”

  
“Yeah, yeah,” the inventor said with a dismissive wave of his hand, “You too, Eiffel 65.”


	52. Chapter 52

**Pent House, Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
A knock shook him from his concentration. He had been looking through, rereading and revising the reports that traveled along the Bifrost between Midgard and Asgard. It was the normal way to spend his time, both out of necessity - it being his job, and out of the need to keep his mind off of the separation from his husband and family. Losing himself in work was so easy, so simple.

  
While he had been living on Midgard for nearly two months and had had visitors regularly, it still surprised him when he was sought out. There were stretches of time when he was left to his own devices, like a ghost, wandering the halls of the fortress invisible or ignored. Other times, he was drawn into the thick of things. About two weeks ago, the Avengers had been called out against a sorceress, Scarlet Witch, and were inadequate, to say the least. The altercation left several members with severe burns and bullet and arrow wounds for their troubles. The woman, a powerful but limited spellcaster, could manipulate and create explosions, forcefields, and fire as well as manipulate objects. The heroes were caught unaware within each other’s crossfires, making them turn to him for help.

  
He was, of course, thrilled to be of use. After tending to their various wounds with the help of some golden apples, healing stones, and a drop or two of his seidr, he wrapped his cloak about his slim shoulders, pulled Gungnir from it’s pocket in Space-Time and strode out to meet the witch. She was small, rather unassuming at first glance, but her aura was one of a well-trained sorceress, though her specialty was limited. Her seidr, due to a genetic mutation or, more likely, a parent who was not human, made her weak in comparison to the overabundance that flowed beneath his icy skin. A quick spell, muttered from a distance, shifted her thinking and brought her to her senses. There was no need for her to die just to prove that she was human.

  
He smirked, remembering the woman. She was in a secure SHIELD facility now, under the watchful eye of the Son of Coul, no doubt, receiving training. She would be a fine addition to the Avengers someday, once she learned to control and channel her powers more effectively and towards the proper targets. He had chatted with her over chocolate in Stark’s Penthouse before she had left, explaining to her that he understood what she was feeling. How he too was an outcast and had been for his entire life. Instead of fighting the people who oppressed him, he sought acceptance through using his powers and abilities that contributed to his ‘otherness’ to help them and make them see that he was just like them, just a bit more special _. Just because I look different and can do different or new things that someone else cannot do, doesn’t mean that I am a monster or a lower life form. It just means that I’m blue_ , as he had told the students all those years ago.

  
The knock sounded again. “Come in,” he called, setting the report down on the coffee table and shifting to stand, one hand on his stomach as the baby kicked, displeased that it’s slumber had been disturbed by his movements. He rose slowly, the babe shifting slightly in it’s more cramped living space. Having filled out and grown another inch or so, his womb was no longer a place where the child could put on a gymnastics routine.

  
The door of the suite opened to reveal the man out of time. “Hey Loki,” the super soldier said with a smile. “You busy?”

  
His brow furrowed, confused. He was close to Steve Rogers, of that there was no question. However, thanks to Lorelei, he had not been as present of late. “I’ve just been rereading the reports that Thor sent me this morning. Nothing that can’t wait.” He gestured to the sitting room, pleased that his nesting instinct had kept the disaster confined to the Master Bedroom. “Please, come in.”

 “Actually,” the blonde man said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I was wondering if you’d like to go out? Well, out of this apartment, that is. You’ve been cooped up in here for weeks.”

 

“Not weeks,” he interjected, striding forward while leaning back slightly, the pregnancy waddle playing through his steps, though certainly not as badly as it had with the twins. “I went to see Bruce for an appointment four days ago.”

  
“And since then?” the soldier said softly, placing a hand on one of his shoulders, the heat easing some of the ache in his sore and complaining muscles.

  
“I go to the pool every morning,” he countered, raising his eyebrows and quirking his lips.

  
“When no one else is there!” Steve said, chuckling and shaking his head as they climbed into the elevator.

 

“So they don’t freeze,” the Jotunn shot back defensively. “Some people can’t handle a little cold.”

  
“ _Some people_ were frozen for seventy years,” the man’s smile became sarcastic, hiding his bad memories with humor. “Have you tried it? Not fun.”

  
“Captain Rogers, the only way I freeze is if I give my body back to the ice that flows through me. There is no returning from it. Most Jotunn only do that when their life-mate dies. It is said that losing one’s lifemate is like losing half of your body: You could survive but there is such irreversible damage...living is simply too painful.” He stared straight ahead, understanding that he had just breached a rather heavy topic of conversation. Thor did not even know about this.

  
“Is that your plan?”

  
“What?” he asked, ruby eyes meeting blue orbs, suddenly serious.

  
“If Thor dies before you, are you going to turn yourself into ice?”

  
He didn’t answer, looking away. Of course he had thought about it. After all, no one knew his deepest secret. It would be so easy, to just slip into the arms of winter, but he had yet to make up his mind. After all, there were children to live for, and hopefully future generations to follow. They gave him hope and strength to carry on. Besides, it was millennia in the future.

  
“Where are we headed, Steve?” he queried, changing the subject because sharing his life plans was not something that he had particularly wanted to do today.

  
“Stark’s,” the other man replied, cocking an eyebrow at the sudden change of topic but not veering back in the conversation. “Do you know what today is?”

  
“Thursday. A term that was derived from my husband’s name, believe it or not.” The thought made him smile at the simple reminder of his life-mate’s presence.

  
“Oh yeah? What’s your day of the week?” Steve smirked, curious. He crossed his arms over his chest.

  
“I don’t have one,” the blue man replied flatly. “Wednesday was originally Odin’s day. Friday is my Mother’s.” He laughed as a thought struck him.

  
“What’s so funny?” the blonde asked, tilting his head slightly as his smile widened.

  
“ _That_ should have been my first hint that I was adopted! Didn’t get a day of the week,” he replied sarcastically, grinning crookedly.

  
“Well, who needs a day of the week named for them anyway?” the man out of time said, giving his arm a soft punch as the elevator doors opened into the Penthouse. “Anyway. Today is the last Thursday of November. It’s the celebration of Thanksgiving.” 

His nose was instantly assaulted by a wide variety of smells. “You have a day selected to celebrate the Giving of Thanks?” It was a rather curious idea, one that he kind of liked. A day to recall every reason to be thankful for what had been given. He himself had gratitude that outnumbered the stars that Heimdall observed. Taking a day to recall all of them would be beneficial. It would remind him of why he was doing what he was doing.

  
“Well, not quite.” The blonde man smiled at him brightly. “It’s an American holiday that was established in the 1860s by President Abraham Lincoln to celebrate the first successful year of life and collaboration between the Pilgrims and the Native Americans in Massachusetts in the 1600s.”

  
“That seems rather elaborate,” he replied, pursing his lips. He inhaled again. “What does it have to do with the ridiculous amount of food that I can smell from here? None of which I can actually eat, by the way.”

  
“We’ve got something for you and the little one, no worries.” Captain America smile brightly. “And yes, this holiday give us an excuse to eat a ridiculous amount of food with the people we love.”

  
Loki laughed, “I have no doubt.” He rubbed his stomach tenderly, the little one registering the scents of the feast that was being laid on Stark’s counter. “What’s on the menu?”

  
“Well, funny you should ask...” The inventor interjected, striding forward, his traditional glass of hard liquor in his hand even though he was wearing an apron that read ‘Kiss the Cook.’

  
“I refuse,” the Jotunn responded, crossing his arms under his bosom in defiance, cocking an eyebrow pointedly at the statement. “You are never getting a kiss from me, Stark.”

  
“Like I’d ever want to make face with an icicle.” The man’s goatee twitched into a comic frown.

  
“Ooh, Thor would not approve. He is the jealous type.” He smiled, fangs on display. He sniffled a bit, inhaling the scents. “Turkey? Mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberries...um...peas. It sounds delightful.” He focused on the man with the rather obnoxious apron again. “What have you _not_ cooked for me?”

  
The other man rolled his eyes and grumbled a bit under his breath, stalking away back into the kitchen. Ruby eyes met bright blue and the two men burst out laughing. The super soldier wrapped a companionable arm around his shoulders. “Let’s get that child of yours fed, shall we?” The Jotunn continued to chuckle, his rich ‘ehehehe’ rolling about the Penthouse.

  
Freddy, hearing the familiar laughter, came running, his short legs carrying him through the Penthouse and to his legs, his head buried beneath the swell of his stomach. “Oh, hello Freddie!” he smiled, rubbing the little child’s warm back as he snuggled in closer. “How are you, darling?”

  
“I’m great, Blue!” His sparkling eyes looked at him from around his stomach. “How is Toby?” 

“Toby?” So this is where the twins got the idea of naming the baby Toby came from. “The baby is fine, Freddie. Thank you for asking, though I don’t think it wants to be named Toby.”

  
“How can you tell?” His large, child-like eyes blinked up at him innocently.

  
The horned man bent with a sigh, a hand supporting his bump while the other rested, a bit heavily, on the red-haired child’s shoulder. He smiled, keeping his lips closed as he made eye contact with the kid. “Here.”

  
Moving his hand from his abdomen, he gently covered Freddie’s small hand with his own and placed it over one of the baby’s feet as it pressed outward over his left hip. “Try calling it Toby.”

  
“Hi Toby!” the little boy cried happily. The babe, active until that point, did not respond, opting to lay quietly within his womb. Freddie’s lower lip trembled.

 

Wanting to prevent any waterworks, the Jotunn prompted, “Try a different name, Freddie. It may like it better.”

  
The small face screwed up in concentration, the little boy thinking hard at what he could possibly say. Finally, he took a deep breath and whispered, “Alex.”

  
The babe shifted, kicking outward against the small, hot hand that pressed into the azure surface. “See,” Loki beamed, “The baby can hear you and me, and, well, anyone really. It lets me know if it likes one of the names it hears. Alex is a wonderful name, for a boy or a girl.”

  
Freddie smiled widely and bolted away, shouting to his parents that Blue and ‘Alex’ had arrived. Loki chuckled at the child’s antics, missing the twins more than anything at the moment. “So,” the man out of time intoned, “What are _you_ thankful for, All-Father?” He wrapped his arm around his cool, slim shoulders and pulled him towards the table, laden with food - none of which he could eat. He shot the captain a look, his eyebrow cocked as he looked through his brow at the man.

  
Steve smiled, nodding at the head of the table. His ruby eyes followed the man’s kind gaze and had to smile. The chair, usually reserved for Stark, it being his home, was stacked with pillows. A large, silver covered platter was placed before it, faint perspiration along the outside, as if it had just been removed from the refrigerator. His mouth instantly began to water. “I think I could find _something_ to be thankful for,” he smirked, wrapping an arm around the other man in gratitude.

  
He waddled to the padded chair, shifted some of the pillows about to optimize his comfort, and sat with a gentle groan. “Thank you for inviting me,” he said as the rest of the gathering took their seats. “It was kind of you to include me in your gathering of Giving Thanks.”

  
Asha beamed at him, covering his Clawed hand with hers, rubbing the ridges. Her husband also smiled at him, saying, “Of course we’d invite you, Loki. After all, you have given us all reasons to be thankful today and always.” The blue man smiled back, his fangs flashing in the afternoon light.

  
“You are too kind.”

  
“Alright,” the billionaire cut in, “Now that all the feels for the Big Blue Man are out of the way, shall we eat?” He clapped his hands together, greedily eyeing the feast that was laid before him. “I didn’t slave away all morning for this yammering.”

  
“ _Slave away?!_ ” Pepper chortled, “You had this catered, Tony. Don’t lie to the people.”

  
The inventor huffed, rolling his eyes while he smirked. “I still placed the call.” Pepper shot him another look that blazed across the table. “Fine. I told you to place the call.” She cocked an eyebrow with a smile, glad to have knocked the man down a peg.

  
The dishes of steaming food were passed and plates were piled high. Loki lifted the lid of his platter to see a chicken, uncooked and whole, skin and bones in tact, along with a handful of red skinned potatoes and a couple of carrots. It was a spread in it’s own right, way too much food for just one sitting. But, as the plates around him were emptied and refilled, the Jotunn realized that the holiday was not one of moderation and he soon found himself staring at an empty plate, every trace of food settling in his already distended stomach.

  
The conversation whirled around him and he reclined back on the cushions, taking in the bustle and the noise. The Asgardian suite was so quiet, he realized. He had visitors, relatively regularly with Asha and Natasha coming to visit daily for tea. Of course, once the women left, he was alone again with nothing but the sound of JARVIS and his own voice to keep him company. The hum of the mortals made him feel wanted and included, like he belonged, eve if he was not directly involved in any of the plethora of conversations that whirled about him. It was comforting while simultaneously making him long for Asgard and his family. _I wonder what they are up to..._

 


	53. Chapter 53

**Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**  
Somehow, God knows how, Loki had fallen asleep. It was his soft, comforting purr that first alerted the gathering that he had drifted off, making Asha nudge him in his ribcage with a gentle incline of her dark-haired head. “He’s sleeping,” she murmured. “He always looks so different when he’s asleep.”

  
Bruce nodded in agreement with his wife, watching the blue man’s head loll backwards against the back of the chair, his horns clearing the leather backing. His skin, so perplexing with it’s painted quality and rough texture complete with thin, raised lines over every inch, hid age well. But, when he slumbered, the years seemed to melt away, the wrinkles that gathered at the corners of his eyes, between his brows, and around his mouth smoothed out, fading into the cobalt. “We should move him,” he whispered back.

  
“How does Thor sleep with that _noise?_ ” Tony grumbled, resting his head on his hand, elbow planted on the table as he observed the blue head as it came to rest in the curve of the chair back. The side of one of the All-Father’s horns had stopped the head roll in a position that looked rather uncomfortable.

  
Looking across the table, he found Freddie in a similar state of food coma, his parents gently picking the small boy up and placing him, curled, into a recliner. Natasha, for all her intensity, was a loving mother and, once Freddie had settled into a comfortable position, wrapped him firmly in a downy blanket. “Steve,” he hissed, taking his eyes off the couple and alighting on the muscled figure of Captain Rogers. “Help me move Loki.”

  
The super soldier shot him a look that read, _You’re crazy_. “There is no way I’m moving him. One move and that baby wakes up. It’s better to leave him be. He’ll wake up when he’s ready. God knows he hasn’t been sleeping as well as he should.”

  
The scientist nodded once in agreement and took his wife’s warm hand in his, running his thumb along her knuckles. She beamed at him, putting the sun that hung in the sky to shame. He smiled back, enamored by the woman.

  
His thoughts were interrupted by a very familiar light, the brilliance of it casting rainbows about the room.

  
“Whelp, we definitely don’t have enough food,” Clint said, scratching his stomach as he stretched, a spoon of mashed potatoes, scraped from the bottom of the pan, halfway to his mouth. “I hope he ate on Asgard.”

  
Not wanting to wake Loki, Bruce quickly rose and, groaning a little, went to greet the unexpected visitor from space. JARVIS slid the doors open quickly and shut them behind the physicist turned gynecologist, cutting off any sound from outside. “How are you today?” he asked jovially, regretting the third helping of squash as his stomach complained and his pants felt way too tight.

  
The visitor smiled broadly, reaching down and wrapping him into tight hug. _Oh God! Too much food..._ ”Please,” he gasped, hope that the force of the embrace didn’t cause him to regurgitate, “Let go.”

  
Confused but still rather happy, the God of Thunder placed him back onto the ground. “Where is my life-mate?” he asked, looking about behind him expectantly.

  
“Sleeping,” he replied firmly, “As he should be. Is there a chance that you could come back later? After he’s woken up, maybe?”

  
“No, I only have but a few hours,” the King replied. “It has been so lonely without him. I need to see Loki, Bruce. Please.”

  
The shorter, greying man sighed, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. “You can see him, but don’t wake him up.”

  
Thor, smiling like a lunatic, held up his hands to acknowledge the request, and strode forward, making Bruce run to keep pace. “I mean it, Thor,” he reiterated firmly before the AI opened the outer doors.

  
“I understand, Doctor. Am I not a good husband? Are you implying that I do not see that _my_ Loki has not been sleeping well?”

  
“No,” the man who housed the Hulk replied, “You know better than most.” He smiled. “Go to him.” He inclined his curls with a knowing grin.

  
Thor shouldered past him, walking quietly for probably the first time in his existence, waving at the gathering with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. His entrance earned smiles of equal caliber from the Avengers that were still seated at the table or had retreated to the lounge. Asha pointed quickly at the head of the table, drawing the man’s attention to the head of the table, where Loki’s arching horns were just visible of the high back of the chair.

  
The Thunderer changed his course slightly, cutting the physicist off as he rejoined his wife, moving silently toward the chair. His smile softened to a tender, longing-filled expression of awe. His large hand slowly reach down and stroked his husband’s brow, pushing some of his loosened ebony locks away from his prominences. The purring deepened, shifting from a whisper to a roar, filling the Penthouse for a few seconds before quieting again. The blue man’s body shifted unconsciously, as if drawn to the bulk and the heat and the scent of the blonde god. Like a moth to a flame.

  
The King of Asgard bent and placed a soft kiss on the arch of the nearest horn. His eyes roved about the gathering, lighting on Asha. “How is he?” he murmured, barely audible.

  
She smiled, her lips pressed together. “Lonely,” she murmured back, “But well. The babe is gaining weight and is, thus, less active. Not as much space.”

  
The tall blonde nodded in response, listening but not making eye contact with the small woman. His eyes were wide and immeasurably blue and in love as he gazed at the Prince’s youthful face. He exhaled slowly, his fingers playing through the loose braid that his husband’s hair was pulled into. “Oh, Loki.” The younger god’s name sounded like a caress, leaving his lips like a prayer.

  
The admiration that Thor had for the pregnant man was palpable, making Bruce leaning gently against his own beloved wife, relishing in her closeness. She placed her small, delicate hand over his as it rested on her thigh, giving his hand a squeeze. While he was far from a golden god and Asha most certainly not blue, he felt that his love story could compete and compare with the one that was playing out next to him. He was the luckiest man in the world - in all the worlds that existed under Loki’s rule for that matter, no question about it.   
______________________________________________

  
“Norns,” he gasped, lifting his husband’s rounded, nearly feminine form from the high-backed chair. “The babe has certainly been growing. He seems to have swallowed a pumpkin or one of those colorful but light balls that the children love so much.”

 

“A beachball, you mean?” Natasha asked, a knowing smile on her face. Clint snickered.

  
“Yes,” the Asgardian murmured, not wanting to wake the man in his arms. “A beach ball.” He leaned his scruffy cheek against his husband’s brow, working his head around the simple, yet ornamental horns that had grown there, jutting proudly from the top of the drowsing man’s skull.

  
He walked as if on eggshells, any slight jostle rousing a stutter in the constant rumbling in the blue man’s chest. For his life-mate to have fallen asleep at table was a testament to how tired he was. He was living alone this time around, no Aiko or Asha to tell him to stop working, to force him to rest, to take care of himself and leave the running of the Nine to someone else. Someone who was not eleven months pregnant and suffering from lack of sleep and the inevitable pregnancy brain. It was only last week that Loki had asked about the negotiations with the Nifleheim dwarves three times within the course of an hour - while scrying with the representatives themselves. _He was so embarrassed and the Dwarves have never liked him, not since he tricked them into relinquishing Mjölnir. The trickster even then._ He suppressed a chuckle, recalling the trick his then younger sibling had played. It was elaborate and thoroughly planned, calculated to the last move long before the first had even begun. It was the first trick that the younger man had undertaken for the gain of someone else - for him, to be more specific, his love for him prominent even then. He had been just shy of 100.

  
JARVIS had kindly silenced the elevator, the floors whizzing by without the annoying ding’s sounding as they passed. Loki shifted into him in his sleep, burying his nose into his tunic which he knew was filled with his unique scent that the Jotunn loved so much. The sensation sent a shiver down his spine, making him feel wanted even as his lover slept. He truly missed this closeness with the man who had been his younger brother and had become his partner for the rest of their days. Beyond that. They’d be reunited in Valhalla, surely. Together forever. This separation, for the health of their child, was only temporary. They’d be together again soon and, once that occurred, only his diplomatic and family visits to Jotunnheim would keep them apart for more than a day or two at a time. He smiled. It would be perfect.

  
The Watcher JARVIS opened the doors, allowing him to cradle the slumbering man further into his chest. Despite his solitude, the apartment was clean. A stack of missives sat on the coffee table, halfway read and obviously laid down in haste. _He was working when someone else called on him for dinner_. The kitchen was clean, only a small plate, most likely from a small snack of roots or maybe a roll, sat in the sink. Rinsed but not washed. The dining room had clearly not been used and all of the doors along the hallway were closed firmly, undisturbed. The master bedroom door was slightly ajar, the room dark. The shades were drawn, keeping the room in shadow.

  
The King of Asgard gently pushed his broad shoulder against the door, opening it slowly to prevent any unnecessary noise. He gasped, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. “Oh, Norns. Loki.”

  
The room was a disaster. Clothing, all of it his with a few of his husband’s Midgardian clothing items, was strew about the floor and collected in the bed. Pillows, appearing to have arrived from all of the other rooms in the apartment, also had found their way into the nest bed. Some of his articles of clothing had found themselves wound around the pillows, as his husband’s emerald robe had been in his own bed. His scrying bowl also lay, upside down in the pile, mugs of tea littering the expanse of the floor and on the dresser.

  
He slowly picked his way through the mess and laid the pregnant man in the center of the bed, missing his cool expanse as soon as he had let go of him. Slowly, he pulled one of the sweatshirt-wrapped pillows into his lover’s side, resting his growing stomach on it and relieving some of the pressure. He also pulled a light, soft silk sheet about the horned man, bending and placing a kiss on his brow. “I love you, my Little Jotunn. We’ll be together soon.” He pressed a kiss onto his lips and quickly left the room, tears springing to his eyes.   
________________________________________________

  
He blinked, his eyes taking time to focus. _Warm. It had been so warm. And the rain. Had it rained? Thor..._ He inhaled. _Thor._

  
His eyes flew open. He had been moved into their bed, lovingly arranged in such a manner that his stomach was supported and his horns were left unobscured. Really, wonderfully comfortable. Only Thor or Aiko would have been able to do that. A cursory sniffle filled his nostrils with the fresh, crisp perfume of ozone. _Thor. Thor is here!_

  
He rose, the babe kicking him hard in the pancreas to show it’s displeasure at being woken so suddenly, and rushed from the bedroom. His ruby eyes scanned the apartment as his feet rushed along the floorboards. “Thor?!” he called. “Thor! Where are you?”

  
There was no answer. His nose led him to the door and into the elevator. “JARVIS,” he stated, his heart pattering rapidly, “Is my life-mate here? Has Thor come?”

  
_Mr. Laufeyson, I regret to inform you that Mr. Odinson is on his way out the door and onto the launch pad,_ the AI intoned.

  
“Get me up there, as fast as possible, please!” The Jotunn literally bounced on the balls of his feet, willing the metal contraption to move faster. The anticipation was building in him. He _needed_ to see his husband before he departed.

  
When the elevator doors opened, he flew out, a hand supporting his stomach, the baby thrashing against his viscera as he ran. His claws clattered and skittered along the polished slate floor, his eyes fixed on the broad back of his husband. His long, scarlet cloak billowed about him, whirling through the wind. “THOR!” he bellowed, his free hand outstretched, throwing a spell about his life-mate, shielding him from Heimdall. JARVIS opened the exterior doors, allowing him to pass through without pause.

  
The sound of his husband’s deep, rich voice alighted on his ears. “HEIMDALL! OPEN THE BIFROST!” Nothing happened, the Observatory blinded to the King’s location.

  
“THOR!” he roared against the wind, continuing his run. The Thunderer turned quickly, his face lighting up as if the clouds had parted. Loki knew that his face looked similar.

  
The two men collided, arms wrapping around each other, lips pressed together urgently. The taller blonde miraculously was still able to bend around his stomach as the child quieted, comforted by the heat that entered his globe-like abdomen. Their breaths wove in and around each other, their tongues dancing against teeth and palates. Loki’s claws caught on the wool knit of his life-mate’s cloak, scrambling over the broad back, scarred as his own beneath the layers of clothing.

  
He broke the kiss, pulling back to stroke the beard on Thor’s handsome face. “I love you, you big oaf,” he murmured, smiling lightly, a fang pressed into his lower lip. A flick of his wrist released the spell he had cast over his lover. “We will be together again soon.”

 

“Of course, Loki,” Thor beamed back, sneaking in another kiss. “I love you too, my Little Jotunn.”

  
The horned man stepped back, rubbing his stomach before settling a hand on the underside. He waved with the other, watching his waving and smiling life-mate get whisked away in the rainbow stream.

 


	54. Chapter 54

  
**Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
Watching Thor vanish once again into the Bifrost caused a wave of déjà vu to wash over him. He shivered, feeling cold in the night air against his rough skin like a caress. He rubbed his ridged arms to fight agains the chill that he felt in the absence of his lover’s arms. “Goodbye, my beloved oaf,” he murmured into the wind. The babe within his womb kicked it’s sentiment, missing the heat that it’s sire provided.

  
“I know,” he whispered softly, his fingers stroking the rounded globe of his stomach tenderly, “I miss him too, Little One. I miss him too.”

  
Turning slowly, his ruby eyes still focused on his abdomen, the Jotunn slowly made his way back into the Penthouse. JARVIS, watching as always, opened the doors for him and shut them swiftly behind him, closing the winter out. He sighed, the heat of the apartment clinging to him uncomfortably.

  
The gathering had broken up while he was asleep, apparently. No one remained in the Penthouse, except for the inventor and his CEO. He blushed, ducking his head, embarrassed by his lack of propriety during his no doubt hilarious waddle-run after his husband.

  
“I’m impressed, Forrest. I’ve never seen anyone with that kind of bulk running as if the world was ending.” Stark was drinking a single malt whiskey, no ice. He held up the glass and shook it’s contents gently. “Mind chilling this for me?”

  
He rolled his eyes and walked over, a hand supporting his round stomach. He took the crystal in his hand and coated it with a bit of frost before setting it down on the granite countertop. The Man of Iron reached for it automatically. Loki, his protective streak in high gear as his time neared, gently wrapped a still chilly hand around the reaching wrist. The billionaire hissed at the cold, shooting him a glare.

  
“Give it a couple of seconds,” he said evenly. “If you think my skin is cold, the glass will burn you.” He released the other man’s tanned hand, watching the humidity of the room begin to collect on the frosted glass. He took a step back. “I’ll just be on my way, then.” His steps, awkwardly lumbering under his shifted center of gravity, were emphasized by the click of his hooked toe claws on the slate.

  
“You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to, Loki.” Pepper’s voice called from the lounge area. “I’d love to hear about the kids. I feel so out of the loop these days, with my own ‘ _child_ ’ consuming my every waking minute.”

  
“I take offense to that, Ms. Potts,” came the snarky retort from Stark.

  
The All-Father snorted, smirking as he changed direction, glad to have received a reason to not retreat to his empty nest just yet. “Well, Lady Pepper,” he said on his exhale, sitting down heavily on one of the leather couches and leaning back with a sigh, “The kids are doing really well. Aiko is in school - she’s studying policy and law. I think she want’s to be a diplomat or ambassador for the realm, particularly to Jotunnheim.”

  
He beamed proudly. His child was truly a special woman, always caring for the under privileged, particularly when it came down to him and her life-mate. “After all, the future will see her living there for half the year, maybe even longer.” The thought made the Jotunn frown, not wanting his beautiful little girl to leave him behind.

  
The babe kicked him in the spleen, reminding him that, while Aiko was growing up a bit too quickly for his liking, he was going to have his hands full with the twins and the new addition, coming in a month. The mortal woman’s face softened, her face resting in her palm. “You’re really proud of her, huh?” she whispered.

  
He could practically hear the eye roll from the man behind the bar. He smiled at the woman, ignoring the grumpy inventor, and replied, “Of course. Aiko had such a rough childhood, losing both of her parents before age six, shuffled from foster home to foster home, her only friend being a blue, cold, horned monster that is responsible for the death of millions over his long life - it is a lot to overcome. She’s a miracle, truly.” He chuckled once, breaking eye contact with the slender woman. “She certainly proved to be my miracle.”

  
“I think that you saved each other, Loki,” the CEO smiled at him. “I know that Aiko would say that the scary blue monster proved to be a bit of a pushover.”

  
He cocked his head slightly to the left, his hand drawing small designs on his distended stomach. “I’m not a pushover, Lady Pepper. I am the stricter disciplinarian. Thor is the pushover. It’s something that the twins exploit with their puppy eyes that they inherited from their father.”

  
“Oh, no you don’t!” the woman laughed, “Aiko has you wrapped around her finger.”

  
“She’s a reasonable adult. She can make her own decisions.”

  
“Yeah, yeah.” She rolled her eyes as the self-proclaimed billionaire, playboy, philanthropist plopped himself into an arm chair with his frosted glass. Pepper redirected the conversation. “So, the twins. How are they doing?”

  
The Jotunn found himself stroking a horn absentmindedly. “The twins are...well, ehehe. To use your Midgardian term, karma is a b*tch. The twins are just like Thor and I as children - except, unlike when I was a child, Daryn is only minutes older than Torsten versus being nearly two centuries older. They are troublemakers but...well, they make life _very_ interesting.” He laughed, recalling some of their antics. “You should see them, Lady Pepper, the exact images of Thor and myself at their age. Daryn is headstrong and willful; Torsten’s a bit more thoughtful and reserved. Tory likes school, though he certainly won’t admit it - not while his sister complains about it daily. Though I really don’t see why - she is quite the intelligent little girl. Something obviously inherited from her mother.” He paused, hoping that Jane was as proud of her little ones’ accomplishments as he was. “Of course, being so young, they have no interest as of yet in diplomacy or the creation of laws or even their developing seidr. They only want to traverse the realms, battling bilgesnipe and dragons, and,” he shook his horns, his loose braid tumbling about his back, “They want to be Avengers, like their father.” He beamed. “It’s quite endearing, actually.”

  
“They do realize that _you_ and your misguided attempt to rule this planet are the reason _why_ the Avengers exist, right?” Stark cut in, examining the dwindling contents of his glass.

  
“No,” he replied, the smile slipping from his lips. “Not really.” He fixed the shorter man in his unsettling gaze. “While I am not proud of my past, Stark, the twins are too young to know it. They will learn it eventually. When they are old enough to understand.”

  
“Understand _what_ , exactly?” Tony looked at him pointedly, “That you’re not the _big shiny pinnacle of perfection_ that you claim to be?”

  
“Don’t say that Stark. You know as well as I that I have never made claims of perfection.” He shifted with the baby as it tumbled. “No, that would be you, when you are describing yourself. After all, it takes a murderer to know a murderer.” He shifted, the baby crowding his lungs uncomfortably.

 

“Hey, look here, Voldemort!” the Man of Iron retorted, “I didn’t know I was selling to terrorists!”

  
“Just as _I_ was left with no other options,” he hissed back. “ _I_ have never proclaimed myself a hero. In fact, if you listen, I find myself thrust into the role of villain more often than not. But a villain, Stark, is a hero in his own mind and there are two sides to every story. _No one’s_ ledger is pure white, _no one_ is without their secrets. _You have **no right**_ to cover my past with shadow and slander when _yours_ is just as shaded. No one judges you for your days as a weapons manufacturer - Don’t judge what I did under extreme torture. I blame myself for it enough.” He stood, the babe giving him a sharp kick in agitation at his sudden movement. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Lady Pepper, I think I have outworn my welcome. I will take my leave of you. Goodnight.” He turned as quickly as he could while maintaining some sense of dignity, and strode from the Penthouse, angry and flustered that his past had returned to haunt him again, in the very chamber that he had met his predestined defeat. His eyes began to cloud, scalding tears flooding them.

  
Sensing his angst, the child within his womb settled, pressing itself firmly but comfortingly along his right side. It’s bottom was cradled into his expanded right hipbone while it’s head was pressing up against the bottom of his ribcage. Besides the small swell and collapse of the little one’s ribcage, it remained still. Smiling at the gesture, he gently rubbed the small being’s back through his thin, purple veined skin.

  
_My darling child_ , he thought, his fingers glad for the contact with the baby, Y _ou poor, poor babe. The spawn of a deity and a monster. I wish it could be different, that I was different, so that you wouldn’t have to deal with the stares, the snap judgements. The harsh reality that the world, while an amazing place, is filled with people who are cynical and cruel. They would sooner reject you than welcome you with open arms._

  
He sighed, the elevator opening onto the Aesir floor. Leaving his hand pressed against the babe’s back, he walked slowly, his body rocking gently. With a sharp flick of his wrist, the apartment door opened, allowing him to pass through before swinging shut softly behind him. His thoughts continued, swirling about his head like Odin’s ravens. _It will be the two of us, dear Little One. Us against the worlds. I will protect you as best I can. I swear to the Norns and upon the graves of your illustrious forebears that you will be loved every day of your long life._

  
He smiled, blinking back the tears that had begun to form in his eyes. While Stark may begrudge him for his actions, there were so many others that did not. They saw through his frightful exterior and forgave his past, willing to realize that he was not the same man that had attacked New York.

  
He smirked. He wasn’t a _man_ at all, per se - the babe resting in his womb a testament to that. The Midgardian myths were based on a grain of fact, though, whomever had begun the rumors that he was the ‘Mother of Monsters’ had known of his true birth before he did. And, almost more importantly, he refused to be deemed the ‘Mother of Monsters.’ His children were better than he was in ever way imaginable, of that he was certain. And it would remain true, he vowed. A mother he may be, but it was to the most loving, accepting, and perfect children in all the Nine.

  
The babe snuggled further against his right side, shifting his stomach and his sense of balance oddly askew. “Shall we go to bed, Little One?” he murmured, caressing and cradling his shifted abdomen. “A bath first, maybe. Does that sound good to you? Hmm?” He gave the protrusion a pat and clicked his way through the apartment and into the master bedroom. Stepping delicately through the mess of his nest, grateful for the resurgence of Thor’s intoxicating scent, he wound into the bathroom and turned the tap on, filling the tub with ‘warm’ water.

  
Bath completed, he moved into the bedroom and curled around his child, protecting it from the harmful words and searing glares that he was subject to. “Please, Norns,” he murmured into the dark, “If there is any humanity or kindness within your wrinkled, withered hearts, spare my child. Please grant it the handsome Aesir exterior of it’s sire, of my life-mate. Please spare it from the punishment of it’s bearer. That is all I ask. That my child be spared the sins and fair form of it’s mother.” _Please_.

 


	55. Chapter 55

**Bilskirnir - Asgard**

  
Thor rubbed his eyes with the butt of his hand, trying to will them to focus. It had been a long week - a long couple of months really, and the exhaustion that he had been holding back was tugging at him with a vengeance. He had never truly appreciated everything his Father and Mother had done when he was a child. They had made it appear so easy, running Asgard and the Nine and raising two troublesome children as if it were nothing more than a simple game of checkers. No, this was Tafl, Chess, or something of that vein. Calculated and precise, with every move effecting lives instead of playing pieces.

  
It had never been his forte to wait, to listen, to plan. That was Loki’s realm - that was why Loki was All-Father and not him. Though it had smarted at first, being denied what he had deemed his birthright, but he saw the reasoning behind the decision of Odin. It was too much for him to be the ruler of Asgard, the Protector of Midgard, an Avenger, _and_ All-Father. It was too heavy a burden to bear alone, and thus, the largest and most difficult task had been given to his once-brother, his now-husband. And he was brilliant at it.

  
“Oh, Norns,” he muttered, returning his attention to the stack of papers that littered the dining room table (While he had provided his life-mate with a private office, he had not thought that he would want or need anything of the like. He had been wrong). There could be no better All-Father than Loki. He knew the Nine, their policies, the diplomats, and what each realm had to offer almost intimately. Unlike himself, the Jotunn had paid attention during his schooling. He knew what he would become - the second son, the spare, to be married off to a foreign princess and to serve as Advisor to the King of Asgard and to potentially rule another Realm himself, beside his wife.

  
The Norns knew this, as did Odin.

  
With a couple of exceptions.

  
None ( _including us_ ) would have expected that brothers would become lovers. That the truth revealed in icy cobalt skin and two-tone ruby eyes would make the second son, the perfect aristocratic diplomat, something less than desirable, not only to the realm that he had been raised in, but in every other realm he had ever hoped to make a life in. Even the Jotunn, who accepted him as he was, were aware of what he had done, how he had not only killed their king but has murdered his own bearer. They probably passed it off as attributes of his stunted growth, his bestial features warning them against his dangerous and unpredictable nature.

  
What others failed to see was exactly what he loved about the horned man. And why, on nights like this one, he was acutely aware of his absence. He could have easily wound his way through the minefield that was now sitting on his dining table. In fact, he had been sending his husband a few pages daily to keep up the facade that the Jotunn was having a say in the ruling of the Nine. But, as his time grew nearer ( _Two weeks!_ ), the pregnant man was easily distracted, ornery, and exhausted. While he had moments of brilliance, most of the notes that he sent back to him were filled with snarky comments a laced with profanities of a variety of languages. Not material that the All-Father should be sending about the Nine.

  
And so, here he sat, rewriting his husband’s words and shifting them about the Realms. The twins had been in bed for a couple of hours already. Aiko was busy painting or at least, that was what he _thought_ she was doing. She was, after all, an adult and he would not control her actions.

  
He did know, however, that she was also thinking about her father. Every portrait he had glimpsed through her seldom opened door featured the handsome figure of his life-mate. Some were full figured, swollen and rounded with child. Others as he had been in his prison, an arm wrapped around a small, coffee skinned girl, a bruise under her bright blue eye. More prominently displayed than the others, though, were from her imagination. A blonde man, the beginnings of a beard of his face with a small, blue, ridged child giggling from his shoulders, tiny horns sprouting through his black curls. The eternally beautiful Frigga holding the scarlet-eyed boy on her lap, a book opened between them. The young man, his horns larger now, though not into the complete position that they were on his adult head, smiling widely, showing all of his fangs as emerald and azure seidr played along his finger tips. _Loki’s childhood as it should have been. A ward of Asgard, a chosen brother, a best friend. A future life-mate. A symbol of peace, of wider acceptance, of better times._

  
It was the latter pictures that gave him pause. Would Odin’s acceptance of Loki’s true form, of his real parentage, have brought about anything different? Would the Nine view the Jotunn and Jotunnheim as equal and not lesser? He closed his eyes, his mind flying, unbidden, into the future.

  
_Loki reclined, a hand placed over what appeared to be a small swell in his abdomen, looked the same as ever with his mischievous grin and sparkling eyes. He watched a pale boy as he raced about the room, a scrap of scarlet sheet wound about him, his rich, brown hair flying behind him. His playmate was blue and older with flashing purple eyes under ebony locks. Another child, older still sat in the corner, twirling a chocolatey curl around a short claw that bloomed from a light blue finger._

  
_A door creaked, drawing the Jotunn’s attention. “Thor,” he said with a wide smile, “Come here, darling. Let me see you.”_

  
_A white-haired man walked into the image, tall and proud, despite his advanced age. He bent, full lips covering those of the cerulean man who moved and helped him sit. The man carried his features, his blue eyes, his commanding brow and chiseled jaw, but it couldn’t be him. Not with Loki so youthful._

  
_“Thor,” his husband murmured softly, stroking the older man’s white hair with his curved claws. “How was court today?”_

  
_The older man sighed, leaning into the cold length of the Jotunn. “The children are doing well. Torsten is wise and Calder aides him as only he can.” Loki beamed with pride at the thought._

  
_“Any word from Daryn?”_

  
_“None, but no news is good news. And of Aiko and Ren?”_

  
_“They are coming to visit next week with Celia and Astor. Oakley and Vada are with their aunt, as you recall.”_

  
_“Stirring up trouble, no doubt.”_

  
The vision faded as soon as it had come. It unsettled the Thunderer to no end. While he had inherited the Sight as he took the mantle of All-Mother, his visions were usually few and none were nearly as detailed. There was no guarantee of the future unfolding in the way he had just seen, but it was strange, nonetheless.

  
He had heard it said that, though you aged, your loved one never aged a day in your eyes. That they would remain young and beautiful forever. Loki, however, had not aged at all while he was the image of his own father except with two eyes instead of one. They had obviously been busy, three other children, a fourth on the way. Children who had all looked so different, but were all beautiful in their own rights. A bit of Loki and a bit of him. Aiko and Ren had mated, as was obvious, and had had four children of their own ( _Me - a grandfather, imagine that_ ).

  
He shook his head and rubbed his temples gently. He needed sleep desperately, apparently. His exhaustion causing him to have deluded visions of the future. He knew that sleep wasn’t the only thing he needed. He was going slowly crazy with the lack of Loki by his side. He was missing everything it seemed. Every kick, every fidget, every trip to the pool and to the bathroom. Every appointment with Bruce and Asha, every photograph from the special camera that required the blue gel. Every slight and subtle change that his striking life-mate underwent.

  
Unable to resist, he reached across the table and pulled the silver bowl closer. Setting the bowl in front of him, he reached again across the papers and drew the ceramic pitcher over to sit beside the bowl. With a deep inhale, he poured the water into the bowl and waited for the surface to become completely smooth, like glass. He whispered the words as his hands held the bowl on either side. The contents of the bowl swirled, creating a small cyclone of water mingled with his pink and white seidr, before clearing to reveal a face. One that he had been longing for for weeks.

  
The Jotunn looked weary but he beamed, the moonlight streaming into their master bed chamber through thin veil curtains. “Thor.” His name sounded like a caress from the thin blue lips even with the rough timbre made gruffer with lack of sleep. “I was just thinking of you, my dear oaf.” He cocked his head in that playfully seductive way that that he had always loved. “Why aren’t you asleep, Darling?”

  
“I should ask you the same question,” he replied, a tender smile tugging at his lips. “But we both know that it is the child that keeps you awake at this hour.”

  
“Yes,” the Jotunn breathed, looking down and no doubt stroking his stomach. “It is a troublemaker - the worst combination of the two of us, I fear.”

  
“Two more weeks, Loki. I have faith in you, my Little Jotunn.” He rested his chin in his hands. “Has the babe flipped over yet, made any move to descend?”

  
“None. It seems content to rest along my pelvic bowl and make a pillow of my bladder.” His life-mate chuckled at his own discomfort. “The babe should turn and descend Any day now, according to the good doctor. I just hope that that’s true. Then this rather long year will be over.” He sighed, leaning back, away from his scrying bowl.

 

Thor’s brow furrowed. “You regret this?”

  
Loki sat forward again with a wince, the child obviously displeased with the sudden movement. “ _Never_.” His fangs flashed terrifyingly before his face relaxed back into a rather pensive state. “I think we should plan next time, though.”

  
“Next time?” the Thunderer perked up considerably. “You wish to have another child?”

  
“Not right away.” Loki smiled one-sidedly. “Maybe in another hundred years or so, after our first brood is grown and we’re suffering from utter boredom and miss the patter of little feet waking us up in the morning at the most inconvenient times.” He beamed, his eyes looking far away as if reminiscing. “Don’t you, Thor?”

  
He smiled back at the bowl, wishing he could run his fingers through the atrocious bedhead that had wound it’s way around his husband’s horns. He swallowed. “Funny you should mention that. I happened to just have a vision-”

  
“Don’t tell me! Mother never told us what she saw,” the Jotunn interjected.

  
“But she did tell Father, if it concerned him. And this concerns you.” He frowned slightly, thinking of a way that he could reveal a bit of the vision without giving everything away. “Besides, it may not come to pass.” He inhaled slowly through his nose before continuing. “I saw our future - distant. We were happy and we had a rather large family, especially by Aesir standards.”

  
Loki chuckled, his horns thrown back as he laughed. “That is what tends to occur when the God of Fertility mates with a rather fertile being. We may need to build more rooms.”

  
“Yes, but that is not all.” As much as his life-mate’s delight pleased him, something more pressing was weighing on his mind. “What are you not telling me, Loki?”

  
The blue man’s laughter died as his face fell and his brow furrowed in confusion. “Now is not the time to discuss this, Thor.”

 

He sat up straighter and leaned further over the scrying bowl. “So you _are_ keeping something from me.”

  
“I have said nothing of the sort,” the All-Father retorted, trying to change the subject.

  
“Loki.”

  
“Thor. Now is not the time.” His face was hard and blank, revealing nothing.

  
“I know you, Loki. If we do not discuss it now, it will never be discussed, so I will ask: Why is it that I had aged so exponentially and you looked as you do now? Do the Jotunn not reveal age as others do?”

  
The tears that blossomed in the shining ruby eyes made him want to swallow his words and rescind them. A pearly tear fell, tracing one Berlegmir’s Tear down along his lover’s sharp cheekbone before freezing in the middle of his cheek. “That is only the half of it, Thor,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion. “Jotunn age slower than any other race. I am but a child in comparison to some of the elders on Helblindi’s council. It is the cruelest part of Odin’s punishment: to watch everyone that I ever cared for die around me. I _will_ outlive you, Thor. Not by a century or two but by millennia. I will watch my children and their children grow old and die before I can find a natural rest. And even then, we will never be reunited. You, a King of Asgard, a warrior Prince, will feast with your Forebears and Jane and our numerous progeny in Valhalla while I will toil in Helheim with the rest of my kin.” He was sobbing in earnest now, though his anger and frustration at the situation was coming through clearly in his quavering voice.

  
“What are you saying, Loki? We will be together for eternity. I will wait for you.”

  
The rubies hardened in the water. “You will be waiting a very long time. The Valkyrie do not welcome monsters in their halls. It would ruin the feasting. No. The Jotunn go to Hel and her kingdom of the Damned, no matter how valiantly they died. And I will not go valiantly Thor. I will raise our youngest child to adulthood and then I will follow you. I will let the ice take me because I cannot live without you, even if it means that I must look towards the heavens to catch a glimpse of your fair face.”

  
“Why are you telling me this?” The King attempted to swallow the knot forming in his throat with little success. “It cannot be true.”

  
“Why would I lie to you about this, Thor?” the other man gasped through his tears. “You asked what I was hiding and I revealed it. What more do you want from me?!”

  
“No, Loki. No, please no,” he muttered, letting the tears fall. “It can’t be true. It can’t be. Please, no.” The other man’s anguish was breaking his heart and crumbling him into a pile of dust. He watched Loki slip away from him as a Clawed hand raised and the connection broke, the Jotunn melting his ice.  
_____________________________________________

  
**Frigga’s Chambers - Asgard**

  
“Mother.” He waited, hands wringing nervously at the door of his Mother’s private sitting room, awaiting her permission to enter.

  
Frigga looked up from her stitching and smiled at him. “Thor. To what do I owe this visit?”

  
His lower lips trembled and the next thing he remembered was spilling everything from the previous evening to his mother while she cradled him in her arms as if he were a child again. Her hands, warm and soft, stroked his head and back, much the same way that he did with the twins. The action brought him comfort though did nothing to end his distress.

  
“Thor,” his Mother’s voice was firm. “Everything will be fine.”

  
“No, no it won’t!” he sniffled violently into her robed shoulder and loose hair. “How can the Norns be so cruel, to bring us together only to separate us for eternity?”

  
“Shhh, my Darling boy. None but the Norns know what fate lies in store for you and for Loki. What has occurred in the past is all we know - is all Loki, in all his wisdom, knows. I feel that your fates have been altered as they are so tightly intertwined. There can be no Thor without Loki and no Loki without Thor. That is how it has been since his arrival in Asgard as a babe.”

  
The Thunderer snuffled, wiping his bloodshot eyes with the back of his hand. “You truly think so, Mother? Would not our different species alone render Loki’s speech into the truth?”

  
The goddess smiled sadly. “But the two of you forget so much, wrapped up in your quests for equality and acceptance that you allow the rules and knowledge of others rule your lives. Your husband, my son, is not like other Jotunn, or at least, not like any that have walked among the Nine in millennia. A runt born of the King and his true life-mate that bears horns and has hair - who wields immeasurable seidr. Laufey and Farbauti had none of those traits. You know of Laufey, you exchanged words with him. Did he look like your husband?”

  
Thor shook his head, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Not besides that Jotunn Ridges.”

  
Frigga continued, “Bloodlines - doesn’t count. Did he use any seidr besides his power over the ice, to your knowledge?”

  
“No,” he muttered with a sniff. His mother offered him a handkerchief, which he gladly accepted with an incline of his head.

  
“You did not know Farbauti, but he was a rather exceptional Jotunn. Nearly fourteen feet tall, broad of shoulder and craggy. His armor was jagged and stuck out at odd angles. When not outfitted, his face did resemble our Loki’s, but no more than his sharp cheekbones and straight nose and high brow. No horns. No hair. No seidr.” She smiled. “Would not that reveal that there is something more at work here? That Loki was destined to dwell outside of Jotunnheim? That he was born to carry the title that he does now?”

  
She rubbed his back tenderly. “The magic of the All-Father is inexplicable, Thor. Do not fret about your future, not when nothing is set in stone. You may find that the two of you have many millennia together yet, and a space for two at the bountiful tables in Valhalla to follow.”

 


	56. Chapter 56

  
**Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
“Have you seen Loki?” Steve asked, spoon of Wheaties halfway to his mouth. “I haven’t seen him in days.”

  
“I went to knock on his apartment door and noticed that it was coated in ice. Like really thick ice, man,” Clint offered. “I guess he just wants to be left alone...I mean, maybe he’s feeling a bit, well - blue.” He snickered as Stark snorted up his black coffee.

  
“Come on, man,” the Captain said seriously. “If he’s upset enough to seclude himself into his apartment, something must have happened.” He scanned the table, making eye contact with each member of the team that sat around him. “We should cheer him up.”

 

“And how, do you suggest, we do that?” the billionaire said, rolling his eyes. “He’s sealed himself in.”

  
“Maybe it’s a Jotunn birthing practice?” Natasha suggested with a shrug, ruffling her child’s unruly red curls.

  
“I doubt it,” Bruce said, sitting down with his soy milk and granola. “He was fine with the twins. Cold, but thanks to a potion, touchable.”

  
“Not to mention that he was generally pleasant despite his discomfort,” Asha added, sitting down with a slice of unbuttered toast and nibbling it delicately. Bruce leaned over and rubbed her back gently, a sympathetic smile on his lips.

  
“Someone should go talk to him,” Natasha offered, attempting to comb Freddie’s unruly curls as he shot murderous looks up at her, fidgeting under her fingers.

  
“Nose goes,” Stark chimed in, throwing a finger on his nose so quickly that he spilt his black coffee on his t-shirt. Clint quickly followed suit, shooting glances around the table. No one else moved and the archer lowered his finger.

  
“I’ll talk to him,” Asha offered. “I haven’t seen him in a while and I think he might unthaw the door for me.”

  
“What have you got that none of the rest of us do?” Hawkeye chimed in, cocking an eyebrow.

  
“Well, I’ve know him longer.” She smirked. “I’ll let you know if he lets me in.”  
________________________________________________________

  
**Aesir Apartment, Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
Asha’s brow kneaded. The door in front of her was coated in a pretty thick sheet of ice. “Oh, Loki,” she murmured, a hand falling to trace over her stomach. It was still flat, but she was thrilled to know that the wedding gift that the rulers of Asgard had given her and her husband had taken hold. She was pregnant - about six weeks - and she was the happiest she had ever been.

  
She reached forward before second guessing herself and withdrawing her hand. “Loki!” she called, banging on the wall beside the ice-encrusted door. “Loki, please open the door. I-I have something I need to speak to you about!”

  
She stepped back, crossing her arms as the chill from the apartment sank into her bones. “ _Come on Loki,_ ” the healer muttered. “ _Let me in_.”

  
What seemed like several minutes passed with no difference. Asha sighed, frustrated at her friend’s lack of response. She closed her eyes and slowly turned back towards the elevator, ignoring the nausea that rolled through her at the movement after remaining still for so long, and made a silent vow to return later - preferably with the Hulk to break down the door.

  
A soft click sounded behind her, ringing through the hallway. “Asha?” came a voice, rough with lack of sleep and raw emotion.

  
She spun, nausea forgotten, and smiled at the owner of the voice. “Loki,” she breathed in relief.

  
Loki looked awful. His hair, usually so well-groomed, trailed over his shoulders and onto his upper back in greasy strands, tangled about his horns and falling over his face. His head, usually held so high, hung slightly, as if in defeat. His broad shoulders were slumped with exhaustion. He looked thin, or thinner than usual, as if he hadn’t eaten in a few days. She could see the frantic, desperate flailing of the babe through his paper-thin skin.

  
“You may want this.” He offered what appeared to be a fur-lined parka to her, hand trembling slightly under the thick coat. She took it, brow furrowed with concern, and shoved her hands through the sleeves with a small smile.

  
“Thank you,” she replied kindly, “Does this mean that I may come in?”

  
The Jotunn did not reply, but stepped aside to allow the healer entrance. Smiling brightly and reassuringly patting the cold being’s arm, she stepped into the Asgardian suite. She quickly became grateful for the coat.

  
The apartment was almost entirely coated with ice. Every surface, except for a single chair - which she was almost certain the blue man had de-thawed just for her, was encased. “Please, Asha,” the ragged voice behind her stated, “Have a seat.”

  
She smiled warmly, trying to hide her concern, though she was certain that her friend could see right through her deception. She sat on the chair, a slight heat radiating from the cushion.

  
“You’re worried.” So he had noticed. She let the smile fall from her face and he sat opposite her on the frost-coated couch.

  
“We all are,” she murmured, raising her eyebrows reassuringly. “None of the others thought that you’d let them in, so I said that I’d come to check on you.” She gestured about her, noting that even the wall sconces were flowing with ice. “This is not like you, Loki.”

  
The Frost Giant stiffened, so she changed the subject. “But, that’s not what I came here to speak to you about.” She smiled brightly, noticing the slight tilt to the horned head, showing his interest. She placed her hand on her still flat stomach. “Bruce and I are expecting, thanks to you, and to Thor.”

  
She watched the All-Father positively beam, though he flinched slightly at the sound of his life-mate’s name, the smile lighting up the rather gloomy apartment. “We wanted to tell you as soon as we found out, but...the ice...kept us from spreading our joy. I’m six weeks along and I couldn’t be happier.” 

“Oh, Asha!” her friend practically exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air joyfully. “This is positively _wonderful_ news!” He rose as quickly as his rounded form could manage, and hurried towards the kitchen, his steps clearing the ice as he went. “You should come for dinner - we can celebrate together! I’ll need some time to clean up, but give me a few hours. Um...” He spun to face her again with such joy on his face, that she forgot his rather dull and sullen, almost depressed mood.

  
“Please came around six - bring Bruce. We’ll talk about everything then.” With that, he rushed off, hands waving and ice beginning to drip in his wake. While she had no idea what had put the god in such a foul mood, she was glad to have given him the burst he needed to move on.  
__________________________________________________________

  
Promptly at six in the evening, there was a resounding knock on the door of his apartment. With a small smile playing at his lips, he swept the apartment one last time, praying that chairs were no longer soggy. Heat spells were more difficult to perform when he was upset, his Jotunn nature being more inclined to lash out with ice and cold.

  
He sighed, secretly liking the winter cavern that he had been living in for the last few days. The Jotunn was reminded that his people were hibernating this time of year, storms engulfing their realm in thick blizzards. The weather forced them to live underground, sleeping for long stretches of time due to lack of sunlight and to conserve meager resources. By creating his own version of Jotunnheim in his rage against Thor, he had actually calmed the babe and gotten it to flip and descend, it’s head now resting near his pubic bone.

  
“Coming!” he called, straightening the silverware one last time, a bit neurotically. He pressed a hand under his stomach, the other resting on his robed back, and waddled his way to the door. He opened it to find his favorite Midgardian couple, arms wrapped around each other, a carafe of chocolate and a tub of ice cream between them. “Please,” Loki smiled, inclining his horns and gesturing with his arm, “Do come in.”

  
“Thank you Loki,” Asha said, her husband echoing the sentiment, entering the newly restored sitting room. “I really hope that you didn’t push yourself too hard.” She cocked an eyebrow up at him in a face that he knew very well. He attempted to look innocent, knowing that she could read through the expression.

  
“Thanks for having us over for dinner,” the scientist said, breaking the sarcastic tension. “Especially since you’ve obviously cooked for us.” The decadent smell of roast beef wafted from the kitchen. “We could have been fine with something simpler.”

  
“No, no,” the blue man chided. “I enjoy cooking. It’s very therapeutic. And, I don’t have to worry about gaining any weight from eating any of the goods I touch.” He grinned wickedly like a naughty child, his fangs flashing. “Roast beef and mashed potatoes alright? I also have some lovely rolls and some thin beef broth for Asha.” His grin softened as he met the grateful, chocolatey eyes of the Vanir woman. “You’ve been experiencing some morning sickness, I expect?” he asked quietly, sympathetic to her cause. Morning sickness, named rather incorrectly as it could last all day, had never been one of his major problems, but judging from her rather pale, tight-lipped expressions from earlier in the day, Asha was not so lucky.

  
“That sounds wonderful,” the healer replied. “Shall I put the ice cream in the freezer and the chocolate in the fridge?”

  
He nodded, “Then please have a seat. The beef still needs to cook for about another half hour.” He waddled over to the couch and sat heavily with a large sigh, rubbing his stomach as the child kicked up into his lungs and ribs. He hummed a bit under his breath, trying to calm the child within him.

  
“Are you looking forward to this being over?” Bruce asked, gesturing towards his globe-like stomach.

  
“Um...,” the horned man hesitated. “Yes. And a resounding no.”

  
“Why?” the healer asked, returning from the kitchen, her brow puckered.

  
He exhaled, averting his eyes. “It means that I will see Thor again.”

  
“Isn’t that what you’ve been wanting?” Asha asked quietly, her hands still soothing the Jotunn Ridges on his broad back. “It is obvious that this separation, while necessary, has been difficult on everyone.”

  
He bit the inside of his cheek. “Thor and I may have had a rather large fight.”

  
Bruce cocked his eyebrow over his glasses, exchanging a worried look with his new wife. “Is that why you sequestered yourself for the last five days? Because you had a fight with your husband? I’m sure that you will sort it out.”

  
“It’s not a simplistic as that, Doctor.” He was frowning deeply, his fingers tracing the purple veins that traversed his stomach.

  
“Please,” the short woman murmured, placing a hand on his knee tenderly, “Explain it to us. We just want to help.”

  
He nibbled at his lower lip, shooting a sideways glance at the woman who had chosen to sit beside him. Closing his scarlet eyes, he whispered, “Thor made me reveal my deepest, darkest, and only secret. He did not like it.”

  
A hot hand worried his Mantle and upper Wings tenderly. “It’s alright, Loki. You don’t have to tell us.”

  
“It won’t really effect you, seeing as you will pass into Valhalla before Thor.” He bit his lips tightly, fearing that his hormones would pull tears to the surface.

  
“Wait,” Bruce cut in, leaning forward in his arm chair, “You were having an argument about the _end_ of your lives?”

  
“More specifically, about the end of mine,” he muttered, lowering his gaze.

  
“Loki,” Asha grabbed him roughly. “Look at me!” He didn’t, watching his fingers stroke his rounded abdomen. She shook him rather violently for someone so small. “Look. At. ME. What are you even saying right now?”

  
His gaze flickered up to meet her terrified brown orbs. “Not _now_ , Asha,” he stated defensively. He looked over to the mortal doctor who looked equally concerned. “Steve already knows this - he discovered it before Thor, actually, though I’m sure he didn’t quite piece it together.” He girded his loins and said, “When not at war and during times of relative prosperity, Jotunn outlive Aesir and every other race by millennia - Thor will pass in his time and go to his well-deserved seat in Valhalla while I live on, watching the children we raised grow old and die, and some of their children as well. All, with their Asgardian divinity, will join their father in the eternal realm. When I finally am welcomed by Death’s embrace, I will join my people, the monsters, in the realm of Hel where my punishment will be meted out for all eternity until Ragnarok. That is how it has been. It is how it shall be.” He took a shuddering inhale, trying to steady his ragged breath. “I do not wish to outlive my husband, not by long, and thus, I shall take the inglorious way out of these worlds and do what my people have done since their creation: I shall return my body to the ice from whence it came and spend my eternity looking up towards the gilded halls of Valhalla, hoping to catch a glimpse of my beloved.”

  
“That’s not a fitting end for you, Loki,” Asha murmured, taking his down-turned chin in her hand and turning him to face her. “You are All-Father of the Nine. You have been fighting for equality since before you ascended - since your return to Asgard, truly. Even Hel could not judge you wanting when your time does come, many millennia from now.”

  
“Besides,” Bruce interjected, “Times are changing. You have declared it multiple times yourself - you are an Agent of Chaos, and as such, you can bring about any change you see fit.” He stood excitedly. “I mean, who really needs eternal feasting? Wouldn’t that get boring?”

  
“I can’t change the afterlife, Bruce. It’s insubstantial,” he replied flatly.

  
“No, you can’t but, let me finish.” The doctor was getting excited now. “Hel is the Queen of the Damned, those who did not die gloriously in battle and the so-called monsters, correct?”

  
“Yes,” he replied, brow furrowing. “What is your point?”

  
“Her realm is Helheim and _it’s_ a _real_ place!” The grey-haired man practically threw himself into the pregnant man’s lap. “Can’t you see, Loki? You can change things with her!”

  
“Hel cannot be reasoned with, or I would have freed the peoples deemed less than desirable, who had ended up trapped in Helheim, long ago.” He dropped his head into his hands, his fingers winding comfortingly around the base of his horns.

  
Asha and Bruce exchanged looks, worried but realizing that there was nothing they could do, all they could do was hope that the pair sorted it out. And that Loki found peace with his fate.

  
They were all happy that the tension and gloom was dispelled by the seemingly ear-splitting beep of the oven, declaring the completion of the cooking process. The horned man released his prominences and, as quickly as possible, stood and strode to the kitchen Turning his head slightly towards the couple, he called, “Shall we convene in the dining room?”

  
He again, did not catch the look exchanged between the doctor and the healer as well as the man who housed the Hulk adorably offering his wife a hand to help her stand. Their footsteps, much lighter than his own at the moment, following him into the kitchen. “Is there anything we could help you with?” Asha asked politely, a smile plastered on her face.

  
He smiled back, trying to move past the rather deep discussion they had had previously, and replied, “Darling Asha, I think that you should go sit. Bruce, on the other hand, could you be so kind and grab the broth and the potatoes? Thank you.”

  
“Are you su-?”

  
“Asha. Go sit and let me pamper you, as you did me.” He shooed her towards the dining room with one hand as the other reached into the oven. The heat was unbearable, but he would be damned if he couldn’t pull a roast from the oven like the ‘housewife’ that he was. Panting a bit, ice coating his chest and arms, he whisked the roast from the oven. Moving quickly, arms outstretched so as to not burn his bulbous abdomen, he placed the roasted beef on the center of the table. “Please,” he gestured to the feast on the table, “Begin. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  
He spun on his heel and shuffled back into the kitchen and assembled his plate. He returned quickly, the couple seated, served, but not eating. He smiled brightly, took his seat and nodded for them to begin.

 


	57. Chapter 57

  
**Asgardian Suite, Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
The previous evening, opening conversation aside, had been really enjoyable. Asha was bubbly, as usual, chattering away about how excited she and Bruce were about their perspective young one. How they would decorate the nursery, if it would be a boy or a girl, if it would have Bruce’s hair or Asha’s eyes. Underneath their joy, however, was caution. Six weeks was still really early, so many things could go wrong before they should be going about telling people. Complications could occur, especially since the conception had been tampered with so heavily.

  
He sighed, drumming his claws against his stomach and the babe kicked a tattoo against the hardened surface. A blessing from Thor could guarantee that the child would reach full term. Of course, that meant that he would have to speak with his husband, whom he hadn’t heard from since their fight nearly a week previous.

  
He missed him so desperately and the fact that they had ended their last interaction so poorly made his arms literally ache with their need for the heat that the other man offered. _Sentiment. Weakness_. There was a time when he would have laughed at his own stupidity for allowing anyone to breach his facade. Instead, he wrapped his arms about his stomach, the skin slightly warmer due to the child that grew there. One of it’s hands pressed against his right hipbone, comfortingly. No, this - _this_ \- made his weakness strength. Even if Thor left him, his mark meaning nothing to his Aesir nature, he would have this. His children.

  
With a grunt, he hoisted himself out of his nest, having slept surprisingly well for the first time in as long as he could remember. The babe kicked him solidly in the lungs, making him regret wanting the child to flip over and descend. Now the little wiggler had full access to his rib cage and lungs. The rest of his battered insides were glad but the sudden expulsion of air from his lungs was getting rather inconvenient and very uncomfortable.

  
His feet led him to the bath tub and into the relative warmth of the water. It relieved the dull throb in his back infinitesimally, making him long for his walking, talking hot water bottle. “Ah, Thor,” he murmured into the bathroom, his gravely voice echoing around the tiled room, “I’ve been so stupid. I should have told you before-.” He growled with frustration.

  
“Yes, Loki?” the voice that he had been longing for answered him. He shook his head, rubbing his face, stimulating the ridges there.

  
“You’re so desperate that you’re hearing things, you idiotic Jotunn runt.” His frustration continued to flow from his lips in a steady stream of insults, all of which were pointed towards himself. Not Thor - never Thor. Their rather stupid argument was over something that neither of them could change. It was due to his true species and their subhuman categorization. _Monsters have no redeeming qualities._

  
He inhaled deeply and slid down into the tub, submerging his head until the top of his head was covered. While under the water, he ran his claws through his tangle of curls, smoothing the thick locks out. The babe thrashed, kicking his right lung and causing him to expel the air that he had been holding. Resurfacing, he sputtered, shaking his horns as he inhaled deeply, blinking rapidly to expel that water.

  
“Are you alright, Loki?” The deep, rumbling voice of the King of Asgard resounded around the bathroom. “Is it the babe?”

  
Coughing in an attempt to expel the remaining water from his aching lungs, the blue man silently chided himself for making himself hallucinate the sound of his life-mate’s voice. He inhaled slowly, through his nose and stopped. _Ozone, fresh, spring rain_. “Thor?” he rasped weakly, raising a hand and wiping water away from his eyes as it began to freeze against his skin.

  
A warm hand caressed his cheek, brushing the soaking hair back from his Horns and Bergelmir’s Tears. He blinked, brow furrowing. Kneeling before him was the contrite and handsome face of the God of Thunder. “Thor?” he stated, raising a hand to trace the other man’s golden beard. The rough pads of his fingers made the hairs that his Aesir brain registered as coarse feel silky and soft.

  
He blinked, tears rising rapidly to the surface. His husband’s infinitely blue eyes were shining with unshed tears. “Loki,” he sighed, a small, loving smile playing at his lips. “I’m so, so sorry my Love.”

  
His life-mate leaned over the edge of the tub and placed a tentative kiss on his thin lips. They melted into his, chastely returning and slightly emboldening the kiss. When they broke apart, his brow furrowed. “What was that for?”

  
“I’ve missed you so much. More than air, more than life itself. And I got upset over something that would keep us from living for the now. And now is what’s wonderful.” His warm thumb stroked his cheekbone tenderly, his eyes shining in earnest. “I do want you to promise me something though, Loki.”

  
Overwhelmed by his loving partner, he nodded dumbly, leaning into the searing touch of the other man’s thumb. “Loki,” Thor said huskily, “Do not - and I really mean this - _Do not_ end your life when mine is done. I cannot bear the thought of you living without me, but I also can’t bear the thought of you spending more time in Helheim than is absolutely necessary. You are too noble to linger in that place.”

  
He smiled back at him lovingly, his lips pressed together gently, though a fang peaked out from beneath his top lip. “Ok,” he promised, wishing that he hadn’t promised to promise. He opted to put the fight behind him as quickly as possible, so he reached forward and grasped the back of the other man’s head firmly, tangling his lined fingers in the other man’s blonde hair. “Now, please kiss me again. I’ve missed you.”  
___________________________________________________________

  
“BLUE!” the twins chimed excitedly in unison. They rushed into his outstretched arms, snuggling the little beings into his bulging stomach, their heads resting on his upper chest, above his breasts.

  
“Daryn! Tory! How are you, my prince and princess?” he asked, nuzzling first the blonde curls and then the black ones, inhaling their scents. “Have you been behaving yourself for your father and sister? How about your tutors?”

  
He tickled them until they were laughing raucously, “Blue!” the heir gasped, “I’ve missed you sooooooooooo much!”

  
“And I you,” he said jovially, kissing the little boy’s temple.

  
“Not as much as meeee!” Daryn interjected, gripping his shoulder firmly, her strength, obviously inherited from Thor, surprising him. Her other hand reached up, fingers waggling. Knowing what she and her twin wanted, his own hands reaching upward, he bent his head.

  
“Go ahead,” he sighed, a smile playing on his lips. “They have been wanting a good stroke for a while.” Their eager hands ran up and down the keratin, taking their time to trace the spirals from their root within his Horns and moving to the dull tips. “Hmmm,” he hummed, allowing it to lower into a deep rumbling purr.

  
Delighted, the twins’ wrapped their arms around his neck and placed kisses on his cheeks. It made him feel like Fafnir, the shaggy furred terror that was currently running about the apartment, his tail wagging ridiculously, but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

  
“Blue,” the beautiful, musical voice of his daughter cut into his consciousness. Hands, obviously hers, began combing through his loose tangle of hair.

  
“My Child of Love,” he replied over the purr, attempting to turn his head to see her with little success.

  
“Daryn, Torsten,” Thor projected, clapping his hands together, “Shall we go see if Freddie is going to be able to come play?”

  
The arms released his neck and the twins’ footsteps scurried away. Carefully, he rose and turned, embracing his eldest. “Aiko,” he murmured, bending his head to kiss her brow, “How are you, my Child of Love?”

  
She wrapped her arms around his chest, between his bosom and the baby, her hands barely meeting in the back as she bent around the stomach. “I am well,” she beamed. “How are you, Blue?”

  
“Much better, now that you are here with me.” He returned the smile, his fangs flashing. “Though, aren’t you all early?” He cocked an eyebrow, and amused smirk playing on his lips.

  
“Grandmother insisted that we come. She told Thor that he was needed here, school is done for the rest of the year, and policy meetings have been over for a few months. There was no real reason to keep us away from Midgard. And from you.” She rubbed his Wings, following the lines lightly, just the way he liked it. His smile softened to genuine bliss, his purr crescendoing as his eyes closed and he braced his forehead against his daughter’s hairline.

  
“What have you been up to, my darling?” he breathed over the rumble in his chest. He opened his eyes to see her own sapphires sparkling up at him.

  
“I’ve been painting a lot, and taking photos. But mostly painting.” She smiled.

  
“Autumn in Asgard is rather lovely,” he replied, smiling back.

  
“Actually, I’ve mostly been painting you,” she murmured, “I’ve been having visions of your childhood, your life as it should have been.” His brow furrowed and he pulled back slightly to plant a kiss on his daughter’s temple.

  
“You mean if I was the way I am. If I was not raised Aesir, but if I was raised among my people?”

  
“Sort of,” she replied, brushing some of the loose hair away from his horns. “If you were raised on Asgard but as a Jotunn.”

  
“Oh, that sounds really quite interesting.” He smiled. “Any reason behind your inspirational vision?”

  
She just smiled, a warm hand coming to rest on his abdomen. The babe, relatively quiet until then, gave her hand a solid kick. “This little one. My younger brother or sister, or Jotunn sibling.” Her eyes sparkled. “I want them to be loved and respected for exactly who they are. No matter what. So much could have been avoided if you were raised to love yourself and your heritage.”

  
“But so much would not have happened if I was.” He wrapped his arms tightly around the beautiful woman before him. “I wouldn’t have ever met you. And life would be so much duller without you in it.”

  
She snuggled closer, molding herself around his rounded body to rest her head on chest. “I’d probably be attempting to waitress my way through community college, completely unaware of the _real_ world.”

  
“You’d have been adopted Thor and Jane,” he replied, small smile on his lips.

  
“Thor wouldn’t have met Jane,” she replied matter-of-factly. “He’d have never attacked Jotunnheim, not if it would have knowingly harmed you.”

  
Realizing that she was right, he wrapped an arm around her slim shoulders, and pulled her in, kissing the top of her head. “Well, my Child of Love, I certainly prefer to live the life I have so long as you are in it.”  
_________________________________________________________

  
After tucking the twins in, five bedtime stories and a lullaby later, the Jotunn gracelessly slid down into the nest. He was exhausted, forgetting completely that the children ran on an electrical current that rivaled that of his husband.

  
“May I join you?” The rich baritone that belonged to the most wonderful man in all the Nine. He was standing, hands hanging at his sides, head cocked slightly to the side. His smile was unsure but tender, his eyes shining like stars. He look wary and unsure, like a teenager who had just felt the bite of love for the first time.

  
So many emotions coursed through his baby-burdened body: hurt, shame, elation, love. “Thor,” he murmured, reaching towards him, “You don’t need to ask. Not if you want to lay with me, then you may do so. I cannot deny you, my life-mate.” He smiled shyly. “I never could. As long as you want me, you may have me.”

  
The blonde man, hurt expression on his face, entered their room and shut the door firmly behind him. “Loki, I am so sorry for what I said. I wasn’t thinking. Don’t take my stupidity and ignorance out on me. Please. I have been missing you for far too long for this.” He crossed his massive arms over his chest, the impressive physique of his making him feel even less worthy of the man’s love and attentions.

  
“I am not blaming you, Thor. I am just giving you the option to leave.” The Thunderer blinked, a blank expression clouding his features.   
“Why would I want to leave you?” He closed the gap between the door and the bed. He quickly skirted around the edge. “There is no me _without_ you. It’s always been Loki and Thor. Thor and Loki. I would never leave you - not while I yet breathe.”

  
The Jotunn beamed, tears prickling at his eyes again. “I love you so much, you big oaf. But you are certainly too kind for me.”

  
“I love you, my little Jotunn. And when you love someone -” The large blonde slid down into the nest beside him. “Kindness is generally what you give to the one you love.”

  
His strong arms wrapped around his cool body, and Loki leaned into the heat. He nuzzled the blonde’s thick neck, inhaling the incredible heady scent of the All-Mother. “Let’s never fight again,” he whispered.

  
“Oh, but Darling,” Thor replied, a lustful look flooding his features, “You’re forgetting the _best_ part of arguing.” He snuggled closer, hands pulling up the bottom of his tunic. “The making-up at the end.”

  
“Well,” he replied, smirking as his eyes followed the tanned hands as they pulled the scarlet tunic over the other man’s head, revealing his toned abdomen in an agonizingly slow strip-tease, “I certainly won’t complain.”

 


	58. Chapter 58

  
**Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
The morning of Christmas Eve dawned crisp and bright, the hint of snow clinging to the air outside of the tallest tower in New York. Inside, it was warm, almost uncomfortably so for his cool body, but the babe finally lay quietly, wrapped in it’s father’s hot embrace, so he didn’t move. Thor’s golden hair caught the sunrise in it’s waves, reflecting his noble nature outwardly. He ran his fingers through the tangles, smiling one-sidedly at the fact that his husband was still a child, refusing to brush his hair, pick up after himself, and eating the most atrociously unhealthy foods. He exhaled, snuggling closer to the heat even as his back became frosted to counteract the heat of the Asgardian.

  
Thor shifted and exhaled, his sky blue eyes opening sluggishly in the early morning light. “Hmmmm,” he hummed deep in his golden chest, “I love waking up beside you, Loki.”

  
“And I you,” he replied, leaning in for a chaste kiss, morning breath and all. “Happy First Anniversary, my Big Oaf,” he murmured, his thumb tracing through the short, soft beard on his lover’s cheek.

  
“It hasn’t been a year!” the King of Asgard feigned surprise. “It cannot be, because I fear that I am more in love with you than ever. Isn’t marriage supposed to make you long to be single after a year?” He chuckled, placing a hand over the babe, his thumb tracing along one of his exposed purple veins.

  
He inhaled sharply, a sharp pain seizing his womb under his husband’s gentle touch. “Loki?” Thor asked, worry flooding his eyes. “Are you alright?”

  
He nodded, his horns connecting gently with the other man’s forehead. “Braxton-Hicks,” he hissed, “Nothing more.” It was certainly something more, though. He knew Braxton-Hicks and he knew labor pains. This was the beginning of labor but there was no way he was going to tell Thor that, not when everything was manageable. Just inconvenient, really. _Happy Anniversary and Happy Christmas to me and Thor!_ he thought sarcastically, shifting away from his husband and into the bathroom, beginning his daily toilet with Thor behind him.

  
“What shall we do today, my Little Jotunn?” the golden god asked, wrapping his arms around his muscled and rounded body, his hands splayed on his abdomen. Loki continued brushing his fangs, smiling around his toothbrush. He spat, pulling his hair back from his face and pressing his butt back into Thor’s crotch suggestively.

  
“I don’t know, darling,” he said, grinning. “What is it that Midgardians do on the eve of Christmas? Also,” he stood to his full height, rinsing his toothbrush. “Have you gotten the gifts for the twins yet? I had Lady Pepper pick up a few things, but I do not know what they’ve asked Santa for.”

  
The Thunderer chuckled, beginning to run a comb through his thick back hair, pulling it back away from his horns. “They want a little brother named Alex and a pony. _Each_.”

  
The Jotunn laughed out loud. “And _Santa_ is capable of all this, is he?” He spun around, his half-finished braid pulling itself from his husband’s thick fingers. “Alex - that’s what they want, is it?”

  
Thor nodded. “Yes, but you don’t like it.”

  
“No, no I do not. Too Midgardian for our child - a child of two worlds, neither of which is Midgard.” He turned around again, shaking his head impatiently at his life-mate, urging him to continue with his braiding.

  
“I don’t like it either, if that makes you feel any better,” the King of Asgard murmured, nuzzling his neck, right over his mate mark. His dexterous fingers completed the loose braid and planted a firm kiss onto the nape of his neck. “Shall we take the twins to the park today? Spend sometime outside in the snow, maybe?”

  
He smirked. “Is this your way of getting back in my good graces, Thor, because it’s working.”

  
“I’ll go tell the children,” the All-Mother said cheerfully, exiting the bathroom as another contraction seized his abdomen. He hissed and rubbed his stomach, mentally taking note.  
____________________________________________________

  
**Central Park, New York City - Midgard**

  
His husband was so beautiful, a splash of color against the white landscape. The instant he had left the Tower, the clouds, heavy with snow, had finally released their burden causing the twins and his Jotunn to smile and laugh in delight. Loki had assumed his usual cold-weather stance, head thrown back and arms wide. Welcoming the winter in all it’s majesty.

  
Aiko’s camera flashed, capturing the moment and the look of complete joy in the beaming horned man’s smiling face. The twins pulled at his hands as they danced from foot to foot. “Daddy,” Daryn whined quietly. “Can we go now? Please!”

  
“Yes, yes,” he replied, squeezing her hand and giving it a little shake of his own. “Shall we get going everyone?” He began walking, one twin on each arm skipping beside him, their excitement barely contained.

  
“Is Freddy coming?” Torsten asked, looking back towards the Tower.

  
“I think so,” Loki replied, “He and his parents are going to meet us at the Park. So let’s get going, shall we?” He, in turn, gripped the heir’s free hand swing his arms jovially. He offered his free arm towards Aiko, who took it with a wide smile, and their family headed through the snowy streets to the park.

  
Once there, the family was greeted by the bundled Romanoff-Barton family, their noses red with cold, smiles plastered on their faces. Unfortunately, they were also greeted by the press, cameras flashing. He watched Loki instantly frown, unhappy with the interest that the public had in their private life. Releasing the twins to go frolic with their red-headed friend through the snow, Thor leaned over, wrapping an arm around his widened hips. “Do you want to leave?” he murmured, “The twins would understand.”

  
“No,” he replied, leaning into the other man’s heat. “I don’t want to ruin Christmas. I will just erase their memory cards, just as I did when we went to the zoo and after Bruce and Asha’s wedding.” He grinned mischievously, his fangs biting into his lower lip. “Shall we?” He offered the bundled up blonde his bare arm.

  
“We shall.” He allowed the Jotunn to lead him along the snow-covered path with a gleam in his ruby eyes. The flakes, so intricate and delicate, fell and remained in his life-mate’s loosely braided hair, stars against a black night.

  
“How are we today, men?” Hawkeye called with a wave, arm around Natasha’s slim waist.

  
“Great!” He called back as they reached the other couple. “Happiest eve of Christmas!”

  
“Thanks, Thor,” Natasha grinned back giving each man a slug on the shoulder before hugging Loki. “How are you doing, Loki?”

  
He smiled tightly, another contraction shuddering through his body. He hid it, though, with a sigh. “Tired of carrying around twelve extra pounds, actually. It feels as if this child will never come. A year of pregnancy is _way_ too long.”

  
“I sympathize,” the assassin replied with a small smile, “Eight and a half months was eight too many for me.”

  
His partner cocked an eyebrow and said nothing. “Fine,” she replied. “Pregnancy sucks, either way.”

  
“I wouldn’t say that, Nat,” the blue man replied, rubbing the side of his abdomen, “But there are certain things that I could do without. The swelling, the lack of sleep, the feminization of my body.”

  
“Can’t sympathize with the last one, though losing my physique was awful and the cravings for fish sticks and custard that made me gain more weight than I wanted to.”

  
“An extra three pounds is nothing, Agent Romanoff.”

  
“Says the man who still has a six-pack _around_ his baby.” She chuckled kindly, poking his hard stomach playfully. “It’s awful quiet today, don’t you think?”

  
His husband smiled brightly. “Happy Christmas/Anniversary to me, then. I’m certainly not complaining.”

  
They stood watching the three children play, shrieking as they ran and tumbled about in the fluffy white stuff, playing their favorite game: Avengers. Aiko snapped photos of the scene that surrounded her, the snow and frost as it clung to the trees and lampposts, gathering on the park benches and covering the families and press alike. The paparazzi gave up after a half hour, and Loki waved them goodbye as the left, erasing every image that they had captured in the process of sitting in the snow for over an hour, stalking the Avengers, their children, and one very pregnant blue alien.

  
As the kids began to slow down, their faces red with cold, Clint crabbily called it a day. “Come on kids, let’s go get something warm. Not all of us are made of ice!”

  
“Hot chocolate?” Freddie asked, running into his father’s arms with a wide smile on his face.

  
“I don’t see why not,” the archer replied. “You buying?” The five year old laughed at his father’s joke and his cold fingers, which tickled his sides until they heaved. “Alright, alright. Let’s go, guys. I’m freezing my rocks off here.”

  
“Clint!” The Black Widow hissed. “There are _children present_.” The other man bit his lips and shrugged, offering the woman his hand, which she took after punching him not so gently in the arm. “Let’s go feed the children. My partner is, of course, included among the children.”

  
“HEY!” Clint interjected, making a face.   
________________________________________________________

  
**Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
“The children are finally asleep,” Thor murmured, re-entering the master bedroom as he paced back and forth. His water had just broken, and, while he was glad that he had lasted out the day, he was not looking forward to spending the night pushing another being out into the world. “What’s wrong, Loki?” his husband asked, closing the door firmly behind him, his brow furrowed.

  
He inhaled sharply as an intense contraction seized his pelvic bowl, doubling him over. Thor rushed to his side concerned. “Loki! Loki! What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

  
Contraction passed, he inhaled deeply, grabbing his life-mate’s hands firmly. “Call Bruce and Asha. We’re having this baby. Tonight.”

  
“Tonight?” his partner looked startled. “As in _tonight,_ tonight?”

  
“Yes,” he hissed, standing up and grabbing his hospital bag. “Let’s go. This child won’t wait.” He opened the bedroom door and moved into the hallway. Noticing that he was still alone, he turned back and hissed, “Come along Thor.”  
__________________________________________________

  
“I _hate_ this room,” Loki growled, his hands pressed into the small of his throbbing back. “Why didn’t we paint this a color at least? White - seriously - white? It’s the most boring color.”

  
No one answered his question, though it was truly more of complaint than anything else. Thor was pacing beside him, his hands hovering off of his body protectively but not touching him. He had been snapped at enough for one night, but was still unsure of how he was supposed to help in this birthing process.

  
One thing that he was pleased about, however, was that this birth was going much faster than the last one and there had been a significant improvement on the birthing bed. A sharp pain traveled through his lower half, causing him to stop and cry out, hissing through the pain.

  
“Breathe, Loki,” Asha intoned kindly from her post, towels and a tub of iced water beside her at the bed. “You can do this. We all know you can.”

  
“We’re at the two hour mark, Loki,” Bruce intoned, “Climb on up so we can check out what’s happening.”

  
“What?” Thor gasped, worried and terrified as his husband rolled his eyes at his ignorance.

  
“It’ll come out the same way it went in, Darling,” he panted, clambering up onto the bed.

  
“Thor,” Asha said quietly, “Stand opposite me, please. Other side of the bed.” The blonde did as he was asked and he offered the Jotunn a hand with a smile.

  
He took it with a thankful smile but quickly squeezed it, hissing through another contraction. “How close?” he gasped, relaxing as the contraction passed.

  
“Under five minutes apart. This is going way too fast, Loki.” Bruce patted his bare legs gently. “How long have you been in labor?”

  
He lifted and opened his legs with a sigh, leaning his head back. “Since seven am.”

  
“ _What!?_ ” Thor shouted, eyes wide.

  
“It was manageable, Thor. Nothing to worry about or anything to do until the water breaks anyway,” he responded, closing his eyes as Asha placed a cool towel on his brow.

  
“We’re at about six centimeters, Loki. You’re doing very well. Let me check the heartbeat.” A smaller version of the ultrasound machine was pressed against the Jotunn’s stomach, a strong beat echoing around the room from one side and repeated again on the other. “It’s doing great, too.”

  
He lowered his legs, triggering another contraction. “When can I start pushing?” he panted, “I want to push.”

  
“At the rate you’re going, I’d say another thirty to forty-five minutes. You can make it until then, Loki,” the doctor smiled sympathetically.

  
“Ok,” he exhaled. “Let me walk a bit more.”

  
Thor, ever attentive, offered his other hand and helped him slide from the bed, an arm wrapped around his side, the heat easing his sore muscles. He stopped, halfway to the floor, another contraction gripping him. “THOR!” he roared, even though the man was right beside him, “We are SO DONE having kids. You’re carrying the next one. I _SWEAR_!”

  
His husband’s eyes went wide shocked, before dropping to his washboard abs. “Yeah, kiss those goodbye!” he hissed harshly as he waddled off, stomach in the air, back arched.

  
“He doesn’t mean it,” Asha whispered comfortingly to the blonde oaf. “He’s just in a lot of pain right now.” The King of Asgard nodded, praying that the healer was right.  
________________________________

  
Forty-five minutes later exactly, he climbed back up onto the bed. “I’m pushing at the next one, so I’d better be at ten centimeters.” He looked over at Asha, eyes wide. “I am so jealous of you - nine months is so short a time. A year is way too long.” He turned back to his husband, leaning back against the incline of the head. “I love you, Thor, but, seriously, _never again_.”

  
He pulled his legs along the sides of his body, grateful for the daily yoga, exposing his nether region to the waiting doctor. Bruce smiled at him brightly.

  
“It’s your lucky day, Loki. You’re at ten centimeters! Feel free to begin pushing at the next contraction. You’re going to have a baby for Christmas!”

  
“Did you hear that Loki?” Thor said, squeezing his hand tightly, brushing come of his sweaty hair from his brow and horns tenderly. “Our baby is almost here!”

  
He smiled and bit back his sarcasm. “Yes, it’s nearly here. I guess the twins will get some of their Christmas wishes after all.”

  
“Oh,” his husband pulled back slightly. “I got them each a pony too.”

  
“Oh Norns,” he whispered, feeling another contraction coming, “You spoil them terribly, Tho- **AAARGH!** ”

  
He bore down, squeezing his husband’s hand and pushed into Asha’s, his mouth opened wide in a silent scream. Bruce’s gloved hands covered his abdomen, feeling the babe shift lower, before quickly removing them. “Keep breathing, Loki,” the man who housed the Hulk commanded firmly. He inhaled shallowly through his open mouth as the contraction faded. His brown eyes flickered down. “I think I might see the top of a head.” He looked back up into his eyes as his hands felt the other man’s stomach. “It’s definitely descended into the birth canal. How we doing, Loki?”

  
He gritted his teeth, feeling the next contraction coming quickly. “Fine. Tired.”

  
“It’s nearly done,” Thor said, leaning in to place a delicate kiss on his disgustingly sweaty brow. “I have faith in you, Loki. And I love you.” The man smiled at him earnestly.

  
“And I you- _Aaahhh!_ ” He bent over again, pulling his legs up higher, silently praying that the child would just slide out quickly. The King of Asgard squeezed his eyes shut, while his hands tightened around his own.

  
“Come on, Loki!” Bruce cheered, “I see a head! It’s a brunette!”

  
He relaxed again, leaning back. “The perfect combination of the two of us,” he murmured, looking over at his husband. His eyes widened. “Does it look blue?”

  
Bruce shook his head. “I’m only seeing a head full of thick hair. No skin yet.”

  
“You’re nearly there, Loki,” Asha said, offering him a glass of water, which he gulped down vigorously. “Only a couple more pushes, I think.”

She smiled, wiping his brow with a cool towel. He sighed, leaning into the cold.

  
The next contraction came quickly and he was gritting his teeth against it, slowly exhaling through the pain and the pressure. A sharp cry, not his own was followed by the relief of pressure. “Congratulations,” the doctor beamed, “It’s a boy.”

  
“A boy!” Thor cried joyfully, planting a kiss onto his icy brow. “We have a son!”

  
He started crying, feeling the hot liquid course down his face and catch on his ridges. The screaming child was offered to him. “Thor,” he whispered, too tired to move, his body shuddering the afterbirth out of itself, firming his uterus. “Let me see, please.”

  
The blonde man leaned over with the child. His eyes focused on the thick cord, instinct taking over. His teeth closed over the cord and severed it, tasting blood as he leaned away, closing his eyes as he heard Thor gasp, pulling the child back. “Welcome to the worlds, my wintery child,” he murmured.

  
“Our wintery child,” Thor said. He edged over slightly, his body aching, to allow the other man a spot on the bed.

  
“Let me catalogue him, run some tests and get him cleaned up,” Asha’s gentle voice offered. “Go, help Loki bathe.”

  
Warm hands cradled his body, holding him tightly against his muscular chest. As he was carried lovingly into the adjoining bathroom, his sharp ears heard. “Our little boy, born 12:37am December 25 weighing 7 pounds 10 ounces and measuring 12 inches 10 centimeters.” He smiled, his tiny child, his own half-Jotunn runt.

  
“Thor?” he asked, feeling his body being set into a tub. He opened his eyes to meet the most love-filled eyes in his entire existence. “Is he blue?”

  
“Loki,” his husband said, turning on the taps and pulling his thick hair form his ruined braid. “He is perfect and healthy. That is all that matters.”

  
“So, he inherited his skin tone from his monster mother,” he sighed, closing his eyes, leaning into the delightful tingling that the other man’s fingers were sending through his body as he stimulated his ridges. His husband remained quiet, his hands scrubbing every inch of his achy body, clearing away the bodily fluids that he had ejaculated through the birthing process.  
______________________________________________

  
The small child in his arms drank greedily, obviously hungry from it’s lengthy birthing process. He smiled, leaning into Thor’s arms as they both looked down at their newest family member.

  
The little boy had curly chocolatey brown hair covering his head. His skin was pale, though slightly blue about the extremities, such as his fingers, toes, and ear tips. He did have Jotunn ridges, silvery, nearly blending in with his skin. His eyes were a rich purple, the perfect cross between the ruby that were his eyes and the sapphires that belonged to his husband. He was beautiful, even if he didn’t look exactly like his father.

  
“Calder,” the Thunderer whispered into his ear. “Do you like the name Calder?”

  
“Icy water?” he smiled, leaning his horns against his husband’s head, “I think it’s perfect. Calder Alex Thorson.” Thor chuckled, pulling him closer as he shifted the greedy infant from one breast to the other.

  
“Welcome to the Nine, Calder Alex _Loki_ son,” his life-mate whispered into his ear before placing a kiss onto his temple. “Now rest. The twins will be up at the break of dawn.”


	59. Chapter 59

  
**Penthouse, Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
She sat, nursing a cup of coffee while she watched her two younger siblings push and shove each other in an attempt to be the one sitting closest to the tree and the presents it held. Freddie certainly wasn’t helping either as he ducked and rolled around the back, moving silently, until he brushed a branch and broke an ornament.

  
“Come on Tory and Daryn! Dad and Blue will be here in a moment,” she grumbled, not at all pleased that they had decided to wake her up instead of the two adults. They said that their door was locked and she believed that it was but she was going to make them pay for it later. Of that, she was certain.

  
Everyone was upstairs in the Penthouse except for the ruling couple, cups of coffee and tea in hand. Asha and Bruce had arrived minutes ago, looking tired, Asha a bit worse for wear, looking a bit green about the gills. She smiled, sad that the woman was obviously fighting morning sickness, but glad that they were pregnant. The two of them, her father’s dearest friends, would be wonderful parents. Natasha and Clint were sharing a chair and their coffee, their limbs so intertwined that it was difficult to tell where one began and the other ended. Steve had been up early, as he usually was, and had already been to the gym and prepared a light breakfast for everyone else. Even Tony had dragged himself out of bed before noon, his rumpled hair making him look even more like the crazy person he was.

  
“Sooooo,” the inventor intoned, “Let’s get started. It doesn’t look like the lovebirds are going to leave the nest anytime soon and I need something more substantial than five cups of black coffee and a bagel.”

  
“I’m sure they’re on their way,” she snapped back at the man, snuggling deeper into her armchair. “Dad hasn’t been sleeping well and I’m sure that Thor is just letting him get as much as he can.”

  
“Yeah, yeah,” the billionaire replied, refilling his mug for the sixth time. “I still think that we can start and they can join in. Who’s with me?” He raised his hand in the air. The children quickly followed suite, as did Clint. “Damn, five and five. JARVIS, I need a tie-breaker here.”

  
_I think that it is safe to say that the Misters Odinson and Laufeyson will be joining us later. It would be best to start now or else you will be opening gifts while the catered dinner grows cold,_ the AI chimed in _. I do not think that they will mind._

  
“YAY!” the winning group cheered, falling on the presents like vultures.

  
“Wait!” she cut in. “Grandmother isn’t here yet. We at least can wait for her.” The twins shot her a dejected look, Daryn rolling her eyes while Torsten attempted to look ashamed of his enthusiasm. The look was quickly replaced with glee when the familiar sound of the Bifrost echoed about the Penthouse.

  
She rose, as did her younger siblings, and they made their way to the doors. Frigga swept down the arm of the building, her arms filled with gifts, other presents floating behind her as she came. One looked like a dead hart, most likely for her father, another, a roasted boar, still steaming from the cook fires. JARVIS slid the doors open for the Queen Mother and she swept her gifts under the tree, her more edible gifts moving into the kitchen on their own accord.

  
“Happiest of Christmases!” she called opening her arms to her family. Aiko and the twins reciprocated gladly, having missed the older woman during the last week while they were on Midgard. She planted light kisses on their heads and ruffled the twin’s bedheads jovially. They tugged eagerly at her robes and pulled her slowly to the tree. “Hello dear Avengers. Happy Christmas.”

  
The team nodded with varying levels of wakefulness. Aiko gestured for her grandmother to sit in the chair that she had just vacated. “Grandmama, can we open presents now?” Daryn asked, her blue eyes wide and shining, an expression picked up by her twin, their best friend, and his father. When the inventor followed suit, the elder goddess chuckled and nodded, “Of course. Thank you for waiting for me.”

  
The air was filled with giggles, brightly colored paper, and many hugs. Her paintings and pictures were a huge hit, especially among the family units, pleased to have their family portraits painted, with varying degrees of hilarity. Her personal favorite was Tony’s, featuring just the man and his stuff, through Pepper’s beautiful face appeared on a screen in the background in the process of reprimanding the man for something that he’d done. Tony promptly had Butterfingers hang it over his mantle.

  
As the gift-giving wound down, the elevator dinged. The twin’s faces lit up and stood, winding their way through the debris, presents, and cross-legged people. “DADDY! BLUE!”

  
“Shhh,” Thor hissed, a finger pressed to his lips. “Quietly, please.” It was then that everyone noticed that the blue man was distinctly less round than he had been the previous day and that he was holding a bundle, swaddled tightly in his arms, protecting it from his cool skin. She rose, followed by Frigga, gasping. “My family and friends,” the King of Asgard proclaimed quietly, “We, Loki and I, wish to present our newest addition to our beautiful family: Prince Calder Alex Thorson.”

  
The twins practically tripped over themselves as they scrambled nearer, hoping for a closer look. Her father knelt, pulling back the soft yellow blanket in which the child was wrapped. The twins looked down at the baby, beaming. “Santa did it!” Tory whispered into his sister’s ear, loudly enough that everyone heard.

  
His twin nodded. “He’s pretty. He looks like you, Blue.”

  
“Thank you,” the blue man said, a warm smile on his lips. Thor’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, comfortingly. She smiled sadly at the sight, knowing that her father worried about how the public would see this child, especially if he looked more like him than Thor.

  
Eventually the twins allowed the two men to make their way into the gathering. Thor’s arm never left the Jotunn’s waist, as if holding him upright, and for all she knew, he was. Her father was pushing himself too hard, obviously having given birth sometime in the night. And yet, instead of being abed, recovering, he was up and about. Steve automatically stood, vacating his seat for the blue man, who gave him a weary smile. “Thank you, Steven,” he murmured. His ruby gaze flickered about the gathering, seeing all the excited faces and the wreckage of paper, the piles of gifts, and, no doubt, smelling the feast yet to come. “I’m terribly sorry we are so late this morning,” he continued.

  
“Loki,” Bruce cut in, “As your doctor, I highly recommend that you and the baby go back to bed. Take Thor with you - he looks just about as tired as you.”

  
“And miss Christmas, Doctor?” he replied with a snarky but exhausted smirk, “I could never do such a thing. Besides, the twins told Santa that they wanted a little brother for Christmas. Who am I to deny them a gift?”

  
“You were in labor for seventeen hours yesterday,” the physicist replied, cocking an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest.

  
“And?” her father replied, dripping sarcasm.

  
“Wait, hold up!” the archer cut in. “You were in labor all of yesterday? What the hell, man! People in labor don’t just go to the park! What is wrong with you?”

  
“Clint!” Natasha hissed, shoving him harshly.

  
“That all depends on who you ask,” Loki replied, his eyes back on the bundle in his arms. “I was in control the whole time, Agent Barton. Calder was never in danger, nor was I.”

  
Thor brushed his loose hair away from his horns before planting a kiss on his temple. Her father blushed, ducking his head. “Who would like to see the babe?” the Thunderer asked.  
________________________________________________

  
He was exhausted after a couple of hours, his eyes barely open. The well-wishers all ooh’d and awe’d over Calder and his rather striking appearance. His mother and daughter, being more observant of his moods than most, picked up on his distress in regards to the light blue extremities and the Jotunn ridges. Neither commented, but he could see their concern mirrored in their eyes and displayed in the heat of their hugs and kisses.

  
The child proved to be a sound sleeper, remaining quietly slumbering as the gift-giving came to close. Most of the remaining presents were for himself and his husband and were, of course, baby-based items and Tony’s promised dictionary of Midgardian slang and pop culture references. He was grateful for them, though the ostentatious pram, painted Iron Man scarlet and complete with spinning gold rims on the wheels was something that he vowed never to use. Asha had knitted another sweater, white this time and much more jumper-like than the twins’ silver and gold babywear. Steve had given him a sling, knowing full well that he was a ‘working mother,’ while Thor was given what the Midgardians called a Baby Björn. Natasha and Clint had given them baby books and clothes as well as a rather beautiful rattle in the shape of Mjölnir. Bruce, ever the doctor, gave him nutritional supplements so that his milk would contain the needed vitamins and minerals for a being that would most likely not subsist entirely on raw meat, as well as a small child’s rocking chair, which he had hand crafted as part of his anger management exercises.

  
Dinner was rather ruckus, waking the baby who was promptly calmed with a bit of purring and an overly full breast. Having not eaten himself since dinner the previous evening, he was pretty sure that he out ate everyone at the table, including his husband. If Volstagg was present, he would have been put to the test for sure. His mother had kindly brought a freshly slain stag, something that would have lasted him a four meals, which disappeared in one sitting. He had also consumed about half a dozen rolls and the mashed potatoes, once they had cooled to the point that no one else wanted to eat them. They were deliciously warm on his tongue and he was grateful that they were vegan, containing nothing except the potatoes and a bit of salt, meaning that he could get away with consuming them by the heaping spoonful.

  
“Loki,” Thor’s rich voice said softly as the group moved off to watch a movie about a hairy green monster who had decided to steal Christmas, “Let’s go back to bed. Things are winding down here and you are dead on your feet.” He nodded, smiling tiredly.

  
“Happy Christmas, Everyone,” he called, shifting Calder slightly in his new sling so that he could wave his hand at the gathering, and followed his husband dutifully into the elevator. “Thor, darling, you do not need to come with me. Stay. Enjoy Christmas with our friends, with Mother and the children. I can certainly sleep by myself.”

  
“After so many months alone, Loki, I never want to have you sleep alone again.” The blonde man smiled with such tenderness that he could not deny the man anything. He snuggled into the heat the Thunderer exuded, reveling in it. Even Calder, most definitely a warm blooded being, seemed to react to the heat, his arms reaching for it in his sleep. He whimpered, his slumber interrupted by a physical need, as was typical for babies. “Did I do something wrong?” Thor looked worried, his brow furrowing.

  
“Thor, you’ve raised two other wonderful and relatively normal children - do you think you’ve done anything wrong?” he chided, smirking as he loosened his breast band with one hand, the other cradling the brand new child’s bum. He was a tiny being, taking after himself in that regard, a runtling among the Gods, birthed of a monster from the Frozen Realm. He stroked the new babe’s cheek, his finger tracing along the ridges there - _his Bergelmir’s Tears_.

  
His brow furrowed as the elevator stopped and let them out. Thor fiddled with the door as he freed his bosom, the child squirming and whining at a rather shrill pitch. “Shhh, shhhh, my Little One,” he murmured, his purr kicking up in his chest cavity. “Here child.” Cradling the babe to his breast, the greedy being latched quickly and began to suckle to his heart’s content.

  
Humming a bit discordantly, he followed the large blonde into their apartment and through to their bed chamber, sliding gracefully into the nest. His finger flowed upwards, away from the babe’s pale cheek, noting the boy’s Horns before his rough thumb pad found what he was searching for: the little boy had a Crown hidden beneath his hair - a Crown of Ymir.

  
As the ridges that chased themselves along the little boy’s body were stimulated, the child sighed, closing his lilac eyes. When he beautiful eyes closed, the blue of his extremities began to grow, his temperature plummeting. “No,” he breathed, pulling his hand back, “Nononononono. _Please._ ”

  
“Loki?” Thor queried from the doorway, a cup of cool chocolate in one hand, a box of his beloved PopTarts in the other. “What’s the problem?”

  
Tears filled his eyes as he blinked up at his husband, pressing his lips together. He shifted his arms a bit, removing Calder from his empty breast and relocating him to the full one. The action left the newborn in plain sight of his father. Thor’s brow furrowed, then his eyebrows raised and his lips opened in a small gasp. Which then, turned into a smile.

  
The Jotunn felt his lips tremble as his life-mate drew closer, setting the desserts on the bedside table. The blonde chuckled, reaching out to cup his cheek as he slid into the nest. “Why are you sad, my Little Jotunn?”

  
“Because I have birthed you exactly that: a _Jotunn runt._ ” He averted his eyes, ashamed.

  
“So?” Thor beamed at him, full understanding in his eyes. He leaned down and pressed a kiss beneath one of his horns before bending further, placing a kiss on his now cobalt blue child’s curls.

  
The babe unlatched, blinking blearily as his skin reverted back to it’s pale shade with blue about the edges. “Oh,” he gasped, exchanging a look with his partner. Thor looked confused.

  
“How can he change his skin like that? Is he a skinchanger?”

  
“No,” he murmured, realization and pride rising in his chest, his gold All-Father seidr flowing tenderly into his child, searching. There it was, a flow of silver, strong and powerful, just under the skin. he smiled. “He’s a sorcerer, my replacement as All-Father, when his time comes.”

  
The God of Thunder did not respond verbally Instead, he took the child and burped him, the babe falling asleep in his arms. Cradling the child, making him appear no larger than a puppy, Thor offered him his cup of chocolate before pulling a pastry from the box. He leaned over, munching away at the sugary treat, his head resting on his bare, azure shoulder with a contented sigh.

  
They ate in companionable silence, looking at their youngest and marveling at his power. Once the box of PopTarts was consumed and the chocolate drunk, the two men rolled over carefully, facing each other, Calder slumbering between them. “I love you, Loki,” the Thunderer murmured, pushing some of his hair away from his face.

  
“And I you, Thor. So very much.” The pair kissed chastely before the Jotunn’s eyelids grew heavy and he drifted off to sleep, his body finally getting the rest it needed.

 


	60. Chapter 60

  
**Avenger’s Tower, New York City - Midgard**

  
They remained on Midgard for another week. Loki spent the first few days resting, having pushed a bit too hard for Christmas, so that left him with baby duty. Not that he minded. Not when his husband had carried the precious bundle in his arms for twelve months of his life, growing beautiful and round, and achier and more exhausted. He had had a year to bond with the gorgeous child that he held, and now it was his turn. Though, he certainly wished that the little bugger would sleep for more than two hours at a time before needing to be changed, fed, or just held.

  
Calder, though named for the cool waters of his mother’s ( _Oh, he loved calling Loki that_ ) homeland, was attracted to his heat more than anything. The poor thing would whine piteously, despite the blankets between them, when he was held by Loki for more than the time it took for him to be fed. Or, ever resourceful and very much like his bearer, Calder would take his Jotunn skin and, in turn, bring tears to Loki’s ruby eyes. It was a painful struggle between the two and it broke his heart watching the pair interact.

  
The babe had begun to whimper in the bassinet (He had yet to sleep in the nursery) and so he rolled to his side, checked the time (5:37am, right on schedule), and slid from the bed as Loki began to wake. “Go back to sleep, my Love,” he murmured, laying a gentle hand on the Jotunn’s cheek. “There is still a bottle left. I can feed him.”

  
Loki moaned in response and rolled to his side, snuggling deeper into his pillow with a sigh. His contented purr rumbled in his chest, quieting the noise from Calder as he hurried to the kitchen to grab the last bottle. As quietly as he could manage, the rest of his family still sleeping soundly in the apartment about him, he set a pot of water to boil and placed the bottle inside. Using a bit of his electrical seidr, he zapped the bottle warm, turned off the stove and hurried back to the master bedroom, hoping that the babe hadn’t fully woken his mother.

  
The purr was faint, rumbly but not at the level it would be if his lover was awake. He smiled, seeing his life-mate framed in moonlight, his ebony locks curled about his head like a halo and wrapped about his horns. He still had a hand pressed to his stomach, though it was nearly flat now, the skin retracting back to it’s original taunt position. That hand broke his heart all over again. Loki, despite his tempestuous Lost Years, was a caregiver. There were times that he was certain that he loved their children more than him, but he had to remind himself that the love was different. The mother in Loki was having a difficult time adjusting to a child that did not understand him and his cool, rough skin and sharp claws.

  
The sound of Calder, no longer whimpering patiently, roused him from his pensive thoughts. He traversed the bed chamber, set the bottle down, and picked up the hungry being. Cradling him in the crook of his right arm, he held the child close to his chest and offered him the warmed bottle with his left. The baby immediately latched and suckled away happily, a hand plastered to his bare chest and the heat that dwelt there.

  
“Why must you do this, hmmmm?” he murmured. “You know that it hurts Mummy to know that you don’t like his cold. I know you try to make him happy but when you make yourself look like him, it just makes him sad. He thinks that, despite everything that he’s done to the contrary, he’s a monster. And because he thinks that, it allows other people to think that. It makes him terrified to see you look like him. He thinks that you’re going to be treated differently because of it.” He chuckled softly to himself more than the baby. “And, in all honesty, you will. But there’s nothing to worry about because your family loves you more than anything else in all the Nine. You are a Prince of Asgard, heir to the All-Father, and, by the time you ascend, your mother will have created a better Yggdrasil, where everyone is treated fairly and with kindness, no matter what they look like or what they might have done in the past. It will be beautiful, and it will be all yours, my precious Little One. My Calder.”

  
“Such sentiment.” His life-mate’s voice made him jump, his eyes jumping to the form of the other man as it rose from the nest. “Do you think it will be true? That we can bring about an age of peace for him and for our other children?”

  
He smiled at the lithe blue form as the man padded nearer. “I do, though it certainly doesn’t need to happen now. Go back to sleep, Loki,” he said gently.

  
“I have to pump,” the other man replied nonchalantly. “I’m almost painfully full at the moment and seeing as you’re burping him, I can’t feed it to him now.” He smiled, bending down to kiss the soft head of the babe as it rested on his shoulder. “Not that I mind. I don’t think I will ever get over seeing you with a newborn in your arms.” His eyes twinkled mischievously through the semi-darkness as he pulled the pumps onto his chest, thankful for the electricity of Midgard. Hand pumping took way too long and it caused his hands to crap uncomfortably.

  
With a soft sigh, the babe on his shoulder snuggled in, falling back to sleep, his small fingers tangled in his blonde hair. Loki slid into the arm chair beside him, placing a kiss on his cheek, his cool breath making him shudder a bit. The whir of the pumps filled the quiet room, accompanying the steady breathing of his tired husband and their beautiful newborn, one leaning on each shoulder. He leaned his head against the ridged cheek of his lover while his large hand patted and rubbed Calder’s back (It fit perfectly in his hand. He was so tiny, much smaller than the twins).

  
“You know,” he murmured, his lips pressed against his life-mate’s temple, below his right horn, “I think we need to talk about this. About having more. Do you want more? When? How?”

  
“I think you know perfectly _how_ another child would come about!” the Jotunn chuckled softly, “Though I suppose I could transfigure you into a female form if you wish to carry.”

  
“Um..., no thank you, Darling,” he whispered back. “I don’t particularly wish to be a woman, however short a time it may be.” He paused, suddenly realizing that Loki could feel like a woman when he carried the twins and Calder, even though he identified as male. He quickly added, “Unless that’s what you want. Then I would proudly bear your child.”

  
“No, no, Thor,” his life-mate said softly over the hum of the breast pumps, “I would not ask it of you and I enjoy carrying.” He turned, pressing his thin lips to his fuller pair, chastely planting a kiss there. “As for when, let’s wait a while. We still have a few good years left together. Plenty of time to have the largest brood in Aesir history.”

  
“Well, what if we,” he nuzzled the juncture of his lover’s lined neck, “ _You know_...?”

  
“There are potions and spells to prevent pregnancy,” Loki stated matter-of-factly. “The next child will be planned so long as we stay diligent.”

  
He snorted at the notion. “We will try our best, won’t we?”

  
His life-mate’s rumbling purr joined with his deep chuckle. “That’s all we can hope for.”  
__________________________________________________________

  
He watched as Loki practically flounced from the apartment, his hips swinging sexily (They were still a bit wider from the birth and had yet to retract back to their usual slim, masculine shape), Calder bundled into his sling. One blue hand, with it’s long fingers, held the baby’s bottom, patting in gently, the other clutched a bundle of papers and treaties, his duties resuming in full force. The man had insisted that he could help their mother by easing his way back into his duties slowly, looking over documents and hearing about the small disputes via scrying.

  
He had also been trying to spend more time with the newborn, only flinching slightly at the sight of his shifting skin. It was only that morning that he had woken to find Calder slumbering on his life-mate’s chest, his dark head resting on Loki’s breastbone. He had shifted to his Jotunn form and the All-Father was slowly and tenderly tracing his Jotunn Ridges along his exposed cheek and back. Acceptance was slowly coming, and for that, he was grateful.

  
The King of Asgard loved all his children equally. The twins were like himself and Loki as children, mischievous and bold, brilliant and strong. Aiko was a force of change, a true daughter of Chaos, molding every realm and being she touched. Calder, however, was the only child (and hopefully first of many children) that shared and mingled both of their bloods and heritages and that made him so very special. He promised to be something, someone, totally new.

  
“Daddy?” A small hand tugged at the bottom of his t-shirt (Midgardian garb was easiest to wear on Midgard. Easier to blend in - sometimes), drawing his attention to the smaller being.

  
“Yes, Daryn, my little Princess?” he asked, smiling down at the beaming face the looked up at him with such adulation.

  
“Daddy, can we go to the park today?” She batted her enormous sky blue eyes at him, her lower lip sticking out comically. Her twin tried to hide the fact that he was looking at them over the top of his book, all thoughts of warriors and histories forgotten in the hopes of some time with him.

  
He smiled down at the pair of them. “Of course, my Darlings! I would love to go to the park today!” They ran up to him and wrapped their arms around his trim waist, their heads resting against his solid stomach. “Go, go! Grab you winter clothing. Norns know that Blue would kill me if you got frost bitten.”

  
He watched the little beings run off to their rooms, giggling hysterically and shouting with joy. “Aiko!” he called down the hall, “We’re going to the park! Are you interested in coming with us?”

  
His eldest, truly his husband’s child, poked her head out of her room. “Thank you, Thor, for the invitation, but I’m going to stay here. I have some painting to do, and some classwork. But have fun with the twins - they’ve been craving some ‘Daddy’ time to themselves anyway.” She smiled that grin that she had obviously inherited from her father and ducked her head back into her room, closing the door firmly behind her.

  
He smiled back at the closed door. Aiko was so observant. It was one of the things he loved about her. The patter of little feet reached his ears, along with the excited chattering of high-pitched voices. “Are you ready, my little adventurers? Shall we go to the park?”

  
“Yes! Yes!” they shouted enthusiastically, each one grabbing onto one of his hands and pulling him towards the door.   
____________________________________________________

  
**Central Park, New York City - Midgard**

  
He was delighted that his Midgardian garb had kept the paparazzi at bay and himself and his children alone. The little ones had been thrilled by the snow and a rather epic snowball battle had commenced. It was Torsten and Daryn against him and, though they fought valiantly, he let them win. The pair ended up on top of him, dumping fistfuls of snow down the front and back of his jacket, where it melted. While the chill was bearable (he slept beside a Jotunn after all), the wet clothing was not comfortable.

  
As the twin’s noses turned pink with the cold, he brought them to a small cafe where they ordered hot chocolate and he had a toasty cup of coffee. As fingers and toes began to thaw, he noticed a couple of the other customers watching him and his children. The murmurs, however, did not turn to his Midgardian occupation as ‘Avenger.’ Instead, the women were gossiping about how wonderful it was to see a father out with his children and how nothing was more attractive. He smiled, one-sidedly, thinking of a plethora of things that were certainly more attractive than him, soaked to his skin in luke-warm snow water drinking a cup of coffee as his children babbled on about the adventures they hoped to have with their newest sibling, chocolate on their faces. Most of them involved a certain azure man, one whom he wanted to get back to.

  
“Alright Daryn, Tory,” he intoned cheerfully, “Are we feeling all warm and toasty again?” They nodded, licking whipped cream off their faces and fingers with wide grins. “Then we should be heading home to Blue, Aiko, and Calder, shouldn’t we?”

  
“Can we hold the baby when we get home?” Torsten asked, emerald eyes wide.

  
“Ooooh!” Daryn chimed in, “I want to feed him!”

  
“I think we can do that, my Darlings, but we need to get home first.” He left the odd paper Midgardian currency on the table and, waving happily to the serving people, he took a small hand in each of his own and they ventured out into the snow again, eagerly heading home.

 


	61. Chapter 61

  
**Epilogue**

  
Life sped on and no matter how long it was, it was never enough time. His tenure as All-Father had been challenging but ultimately peaceful, something that he was immensely proud of. Relations with the rest of the Nine had steadily improved, and were certainly helped by the rather large brood that he and his beloved life-mate had fostered.

  
Aiko and Ren were wed shortly after her one hundredth Name Day, after which his beloved savior moved to Jotunnheim for eight months out of the year, bringing her life-mate and family to Asgard during the harsh Jotunnheim winter. She had given himself and Thor four beautiful grandchildren. Their eldest, Celia (a rather large girl), had become the life-mate of Axel, and thus, Queen of Jotunnheim, the first in the history of the world.

  
Daryn took after her father, running about the Nine on amazing adventures, protecting it’s people and enforcing her brothers’ edicts. She ended up marrying Freddie, much to everyone’s delight, and he became Aesir, to live out his days at her side as the new head Avenger after Steve rightfully retired at the ripe old age of nearly three hundred. Torsten had proven to be a wise ruler, much less rash than his father and extremely thoughtful and highly intellectual, like his mother. Seidr and the connection between the realms - Jane’s beloved research - proved to be his fascination. He wed Bruce and Asha’s daughter, Evelyn, who, in turn, became Queen of the Aesir.

  
Calder, whose seidr rivaled his own, succeeded him as All-Father while his beautiful wife, a Light Elf named Arwen, succeeded his husband as All-Mother. He continued to shift his skin, depending upon where he was in the Nine, and, along with his eldest sister, campaigned for equal rights for all the people within the Nine.

  
He and Thor had had eight other children before his husband had passed: Dagny, Egil, Hella and her twin brother Havardr (who succeeded Heimdall), Kensley, Odin, Frigga (named after their beloved Mother passed at the age of 5,083), and their darling baby, Jane. They had become wise and beautiful in their time, marrying their own beloved’s, taking high-ranking positions about the Nine realms. Now, even little Jane, looking very much like her namesake, had moved to Vanaheim with her husband, the prince of the Vanir, and it was just him, in his retirement, and his dying husband.

  
He sat, Thor’s age-spotted hands in his two, strong, youthful ones, careful to not harm the delicate skin beneath his claws. His husband had been fading as the sun wained, as if the dying light reflected the light that dwelt within Thor. He smiled down at the man, his undying love - love that had only grown as his life-mate’s golden hair had turned silver and then white and wrinkles collected about his youthful blue eyes.

  
Those same eyes blinked up at him wearily. “Loki,” he murmured, scarcely louder than a whisper, “Remember that promise...”

  
“I remember many promises, you Big Oaf,” he chuckled, though tears prickled at the corners of his ruby eyes.

  
“The one you made me before our first anniversary.” The king took a shaky, shallow inhale. “Before Calder.” He smiled weakly. “Don’t follow me. Not until it’s truly your time.”

  
He gently squeezed the hands he held, those once strong hands that had wielded Mjölnir but now could barely hold his cobalt fingers. “Thor,” he breathed, “I made you a promise and I intend to keep it. Know that I will continue to love you until the day Hel takes me and beyond that. _You are the love of my life. Always have been. Always will be_. So, Beloved, don’t mourn for me. Go to Valhalla. Join your precious Jane and your little Loki and Odin, All-Father, and our beloved Mother and our wonderful friends, the Avengers, and, from time to time, think of me. For I will be thinking of you. Always.”

  
He bent and kissed the other man’s lips chastely, wishing that the end had not found them. Not yet. Not ever. 5,672 years was not long enough to know Thor and certainly not long enough to love him. He bit his lower lip as he smiled sadly, tears running down his face and freezing there. Thor’s mouth twitched into a semblance of the smile he usually wore. “I love you, Loki,” he exhaled, the light leaving his eyes for the last time, those beautiful sapphires dulling.

  
“Thor,” he breathed, squeezing the hands with no response, “Thor! I love you too, Thor! Don’t leave me...I...love you.” The tears flowed, fast and furious then and he rested his horns on the bodily remains of his life-mate.  
______________________________________________________

  
Gungnir hummed beneath his hand, recognizing his seidr, despite the relinquishing of his All-Father seidr over a millennium ago. He held his head high, or as high as he could manage given the circumstances. The sun was setting on the day, the stars beginning to twinkle in the deepening twilight. Thor looked handsome in his final rest, his hair drawn about his head in a halo, his hands resting on a great sword, Mjölnir inherited by the very worthy Torsten, shrouded in his armor, which still fit him like a glove.

  
“Dad,” Aiko whispered, placing a gentle hand on his arm, her own hair beginning to streak with silver. “It’s time.”

  
He smiled at her sadly. “I’m just not ready to let go, my Child of Love,” he murmured before nodding his head once. He began to sing, his voice undulating between registers with ease, his sorrow filling each note with longing and mourning. The pyre began to sail, carrying Thor out into the bay, away from Asgard. Away from his family. Away from him.

  
Just as the boat was pulling out of range into the open waters of the bay, he slowly tipped Gungnir forward, signaling Daryn to launch the flaming arrow onto her father’s pyre. Her aim was true and the pyre of Thor went up in a blazing glory, lighting the water that it floated on like the noontime sun. The flames caused the water to dance, standing out from the starlit sky and the thin line of orangey-red sunset on the far horizon.

  
As the burning boat drifted over the edge of the world and into the open air above the Void, he slammed Gungnir onto the golden floor beneath his horned feet It suspended the boat for a split second, turning the essence of his life-mate into starlight before allowing the pyre to drop into the Void. Loki watched the stars swirl and lift into the millions of lights in the ebony sky. He spun his seidr, thinking of the Thunderer, and created a shining blue-white orb of light. Everyone around him held their own ball of light, some seidr created, others paper lanterns flickering and glowing with love and hope. As one, the Jotunn and the crowd released their orbs, lighting the way for the All-Father’s soul to follow to the halls of Valhalla. “Goodbye, my Big Oaf,” he murmured, choking back his tears. His hand found his abdomen, sending a pulse of seidr into it. “I love you. Thank you.” A little blip of white seidr flashed back to him, a reminder of his husband’s final gift to him.  
_____________________________________________________

  
He retreated to Jotunnheim after that, the wilds welcoming him home. It was the perfect place to brood and mourn his loss while the child within him grew stronger and larger by the day. Labor came faster than he had thought possible, already missing his final pregnancy. Stumbling a bit, he retreated into his cavern and the water and furs he had prepared, missing Bruce and Asha terribly, as he had for his last six births.

  
His water broke about ten hours in, bringing with it pain and the inevitable cursing. A blue head poked into his cave, startling him. “NORNS!” he shrieked through a contraction, “WHO ARE YOU? GET THE _HELL_ OUT OF HERE!” He wished that he could look more imposing instead of laying on his back, his legs spread as he became increasingly dilated.

  
Instead of running away, as any rational and smart being would have done, the idiotic Jotunn entered the cave. _Just like Thor_ , he reflected, breathing through the next contraction.

  
“My Lord Loki,” the odd Jotunn murmured reverently, bowing his head.

  
“Congratulations, whomever you are. You found me.” He threw his arms open as he rose and began to pace about the cave, hands pressed into the small of his back. “And who are you?”

  
“A friend,” the Jotunn whispered. He scanned the being before him, curious. He was short, for a Jotunn, about nine feet tall. His skin was relatively pale for a Frost Giant, his Jotunn ridges mirroring almost a beard shape along his jaw along with a pattern that mirrored his husband’s, when he took that form. There was another scar, the exact replica of the whip lash that chased it’s way over his late husband’s left shoulder, peeking out from beneath the fade red cloak. “I was sent to you, in your need. I couldn’t miss this, not for all the feasts in Valhalla.”

  
“Thor,” he breathed, his eyes growing wide, noting the bone structure and the odd, lightning shaped pattern on the Jotunn’s arms. “ _Thor?!_ ”

  
“Yes,” the other Jotunn beamed, flashing fangs. “It’s me, my Little Jotunn.”

  
“Huh-how?”

  
The other man stepped up to him a swept him into his arms just as another contraction seized him. “Come, let’s have this baby,” he stated, lowering him gently to the furs and settling himself between his legs. “It’s time to push!”  
_____________________________________________

  
Little Unn cradled to his breast, as he was cradled in his husband’s lap, he asked, “How are you here right now, Thor? Am I imagining this?”

  
A deep, comforting purr rumbled in the larger Jotunn’s chest. “I went to Valhalla. I saw all the people you told me to see and they all said the same thing, ‘Where is Loki?’ And I found myself looking down at you, watching you leave Asgard for this-” He gestured about the cavern before continuing. “I watched you grow round with child - our child, and I knew that I needed to be with you. That Death could not separate us. So I appealed to the Norns and they turned me down, claiming that I could not leave Valhalla, not without condemning myself. So I mourned my loss. Then Odin came to me and said that, with the help of Frigga, they could reunite us, that I would never have to leave your side. So, with the permission of Jane, who sends her love, and the best wishes of the Avengers, my father and our mother transfigured me into this form and returned me to you. As it should be.”

  
“Forever?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the brow of their newest child, beautiful and blue as both her parents.

  
“ _Forever_ ,” Thor promised, his arms tightening about them.  
_________________________________________________________

  
It is said that, in times of struggle, two Jotunn warriors, short in stature but fierce in strength and powerful in seidr, will appear and bring aid to any who seek it. No names would be given, no personal information shared except that the beings were inseparable. After the crisis, the pair would vanish as suddenly as they appeared. The pair became known as the Warrior and the Scholar and they are watching, always waiting and always ready to aid those who cannot defend themselves.

 

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well Folks, this is it! The end of a ridiculously long fanfic. I hope that you enjoyed it! If you want more, please check out some of my other works. I, of course, have a few other things brewing, so, hopefully, some new things will be posted in the near future!
> 
> Thanks again for going on this journey with me!
> 
> OkieDokieLoki


End file.
